{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_47139/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_47139","id":"gutenberg_47139","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47139","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Operas -- Stories, plots, etc. -- Juvenile literature","Wagner, Richard, 1813-1883. Operas. Selections -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"Produced by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Wotan's Farewell to Brunhilde\nK. Dielitz\nBy permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., New Bond St., W]\n\n\n\n\n                                *STORIES\n                              FROM WAGNER*\n\n\n                                   BY\n\n                          J. WALKER McSPADDEN\n\n                               AUTHOR OF\n             \"STORIES OF ROBIN HOOD\" \"STORIES FROM DICKENS\"\n                      \"STORIES FROM CHAUCER\" ETC.\n\n\n\n\"He cometh unto you with a tale\nwhich holdeth children from play,\nand old men from the chimney-corner.\"\n  SIR PHILIP SIDNEY\n\n\n\n                                 LONDON\n                       GEORGE G. HARRAP & COMPANY\n                   3 PORTSMOUTH STREET KINGSWAY W.C.\n                                  1912\n\n\n\n\n            Letterpress: The Riverside Press Ltd., Edinburgh\n\n              Illustrations: The Ballantyne Press, London\n\n\n\n\n                               *CONTENTS*\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nTHE RING OF THE CURSE--\n  I. The Rhine-Gold\n  II. The War Maidens\n  III. Siegfried the Fearless\n  IV. The Downfall of the Gods\n\nPARSIFAL THE PURE\n\nLOHENGRIN THE SWAN KNIGHT\n\nTANNHAeUSER THE KNIGHT OF SONG\n\nTHE MASTER SINGERS\n\nRIENZI THE LAST OF THE TRIBUNES\n\nTHE FLYING DUTCHMAN\n\nTRISTAN AND ISOLDE\n\n\n\n\n                        *LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS*\n\n\nWotan's Farewell to Brunhilde (_K. Dielitz_) . . . Frontispiece\n\nThe Rhine-Daughters (_H. Hendrich_)\n\n\"The Two were reunited in a fond Embrace\" (_H. Hendrich_)\n\n\"Siegmund was supporting her Head upon his Knee\" (_J. Wagrez_)\n\n\"Siegfried saw someone lying asleep beneath a heavy shield\" (_J.\nWagrez_)\n\n\"And straight into the Fire she rode\" (_J. Wagrez_)\n\nThe Castle of the Holy Grail (_H. Thoma_)\n\n\"The Swan drew the Boat to Shore\" (_G. Rochegrosse_)\n\nLohengrin and Elsa (_E. Klimsch_)\n\n\"O Queen, O Goddess, let me fly!\" (_J. Wagrez_)\n\nTannhaeuser and Elizabeth (_E. Klimsch_)\n\n\"Eva leaned her Head upon the good Shoemaker's Shoulder\" (_Victor\nProut_)\n\n\"'Senta!' he said, 'look at me!'\" (_Victor Prout_)\n\n\"She flung herself from the Cliff into the raging Sea\" (_G.\nRochegrosse_)\n\n\"Suddenly she saw that a Piece was missing from the Point\" (_Victor\nProut_)\n\nTristan and Isolde. (_Stella Langdale_)\n\n\n\n\n                             *Introduction*\n\n\nIt would be a longer story than all the \"Stories from Wagner\" put\ntogether, to tell where these tales began and how they grew.  Centuries\nbefore they were set to music in the soul of Richard Wagner, some of\nthem had been chanted around rude camp-fires by savage-looking men clad\nin the skins of animals.  They were repeated by word of mouth long\nbefore even the rudest art of writing was learned; and in various lands\nthey were known, though the stories often differed.  For in those days\nmen believed in spirits, good and bad, and in giants, dwarfs, gods and\ngoddesses.  They told these stories to their children, just as real\nhistory is taught to-day; and later the legends were treasured not only\nfor their deep interest but also because they showed how people lived\nand thought, long ago \"while the world was in the making.\"\n\nWhen Wagner, the great music-dramatist of Germany, was writing his\nwonderful operas, he found much of this rich material lying ready at his\nhand.  Other parts he adapted to suit his needs.  And it is the form in\nwhich he used the tales that has been followed in the simple retelling\nin the present volume; hence the justice of the title--\"Stories from\nWagner.\"  Let us pause a moment to see who this author was, and how he\ncame to collect his themes.\n\nRichard Wagner's career extended over the better part of the last\ncentury.  He was born at Leipzig, May 22, 1813; he died at Venice,\nFebruary 13, 1883.  His whole life was a struggle, for his musical ideas\nwere unlike any that had gone before.  But he lived to witness a\nsplendid triumph; and to-day his operas are produced more often than\nthose of any other composer.\n\nThe following is the order in which the operas were first given:--\n\nRienzi, 1842\nThe Flying Dutchman, 1843\nTannhaeuser, 1845\nLohengrin, 1850\nTristan and Isolde, 1865\nThe Master Singers, 1868\nThe Ring of the Nibelung, 1878\nParsifal, 1882\n\n\nWhen Wagner was just beginning his career, he was in great doubt as to\nthe choice of subjects for his operas. His first famous work, \"Rienzi\"\nwas based upon Italian history.  The English novelist, Bulwer-Lytton,\nhas written a noted novel, using the same title and groundwork.\n\nThe legend of \"The Flying Dutchman,\" which Wagner next chose, is one of\nthe best-known sea-myths in existence.  In every country sailors tell of\na mysterious ship that is seen in times of danger or distress.  The\ncaptain of this vessel bears many names, but it is believed that the\nvarying tales are only versions of one original legend. The German poet,\nHeine, wrote one version, and from this Wagner obtained the first idea\nfor his opera.\n\nWith \"Tannhaeuser,\" Wagner entered upon the purely German themes which\nhe was thenceforth to find so rich a mine.  This story like many others\nwas extremely old, yet it had been treated only rarely.  Ludwig Tieck\nhad written some verses upon it, and from these Wagner got his idea.\nOwen Meredith, the English poet, has also given us a charming version\nentitled \"The Battle of the Bards.\"  While Tannhaeuser himself has been\nseldom written about, Walter von der Vogelweide--the minnesinger, and\nfriend of Tannhaeuser in the opera,--is the subject of many poems, one\nof the last being by Longfellow.  Sir Walter is set down in German\nhistory as an actual person, and many things are told about his\nmarvellous gift of song.\n\nWolfram von Eschenbach--another historic character found in the\noperas--once wrote a famous old poem entitled \"Parzival.\"  Here Wagner\ndiscovered the germ of his beautiful story of \"Lohengrin,\" following the\nlines of an old and well-nigh forgotten legend.  The opera of \"Parsifal\"\nthough not completed till more than thirty years later was also\nconceived at this time, and remained a cherished project.  Legends of\nthe Holy Grail, with which it deals, are familiar in every Christian\ncountry. There is much in the characters of both Parsifal and Lohengrin\nto remind us of Tennyson's Sir Galahad, in \"Idylls of the King,\" which\ntreats of the Holy Grail.\n\nIn \"Tristan and Isolde\" we have another legend which was well known\nduring the Middle Ages.  It was known in Wales, Ireland, Brittany and\nGermany where it was a frequent theme with minnesingers, or wandering\nminstrels, like Walter von der Vogelweide.  One of the earliest German\nauthors to write down a version of it was a certain Godfried of\nStrasburg; and Wagner had at his command this and numerous other\nversions. English poets, also, have been greatly attracted by the tale.\nSir Walter Scott, in \"Thomas the Rhymer,\" told the simplest version.\nMatthew Arnold, Tennyson, and Swinburne have given notable poems of some\nlength on the subject.\n\nDuring the Middle Ages, and particularly in the thirteenth century, the\ncity of Nuremberg was the seat of a famous musical guild, or\ntraining-school for poets and singers.  In his \"Master Singers,\" Wagner\nhas followed history for his scene, characters and traditions, though he\nhas made droll use of them.  The Master Singers have left substantial\nproof that they really lived.  There are poems still in existence,\nsigned by Sixtus Beckmesser, Veit Pogner and others; while Hans Sachs\nhas left whole volumes behind, and his memory is so revered that he is\nlooked upon almost as the patron saint of his city. Longfellow says in\nhis poem on \"Nuremberg\":\n\n    \"Here Hans Sachs, the cobbler-poet, laureate of the\n      gentle craft,\n    Wisest of the Twelve Wise Masters in huge folios\n      sang and laughed!\"\n\nWagner also obtained his idea for the contest of song from one of\nHoffmann's novels entitled \"Saengerkrieg.\"  He made use of the same idea\nin \"Tannhaeuser.\"\n\nAlthough \"The Ring of the Nibelung,\" Wagner's grand lifework, was not\npresented until 1876, he had been at work upon its four parts for more\nthan twenty-five years previously.  He had published the first two parts\nwithout their musical score, in 1853.  The other operas which appeared\nin the meanwhile were but breathing-places, so to speak, in the greater\nlabour he had set himself to perform.\n\nWagner was especially fortunate in his choice of subject.  The\nNibelungen myth was a great national epic--one of the oldest of the\nTeutonic race, dating back to the prehistoric era when Wotan, Fricka,\nFreia, Thor, Loki, and the other gods and goddesses were worshipped in\nthe German forests.  In the course of centuries several versions of the\nlegend appeared, some being found even in Iceland under the name of\n\"Eddas.\"  In Germany a long epic poem came to be written by some unknown\nhand.  It was called the \"Nibelungenlied,\" and it is the most famous of\nall early German poems.\n\nOf course Wagner had access to all this material.  But he made so many\nchanges from it in writing his own poem as to create a new story--one\nwhich, independent of the wonderful music which he wrote to accompany\nit, gives him place among the foremost writers of his nation. Volumes\nhave been written pointing out the differences between his Nibelung\nstory and the earlier legends.\n\nBut the purpose of this little book is not to criticise, dissect, or\ncompare.  After giving these few needful names and dates, we wish merely\nto follow the splendid fancy of this singer of songs and teller of tales\nwherever in the realm of storyland it may chance to lead us.\n\nOne further word, however, of frank admission.  While the spirit of the\noriginal is adhered to, and very often the exact words are quoted, it\nhas not been deemed best to follow the argument too closely.  Instead,\nsimplicity and directness have been considered preferable to the\ninvolved plots and symbolical actions of the operas.\n\nThe book is directed primarily to the needs of young people, and is sent\nout to them in the hope that some time they may hear the dull booming of\nthe Rhine about the Gold, the magic fire as it sweeps to encircle the\nsleeping maiden, the forest voices which greet the young and fearless\nhero, the chorus of the pilgrims, and the song which won the bride for a\nprize.  All these and many other good things are held in store by the\nfuture. Meanwhile \"the story's the thing,\" and we who will never grow\ntoo old to believe in giants, dragons and dwarfs, and the brave heroes\nwho ride over the world doing heroic deeds, can still be thankful that\nWagner lived and dreamed his dreams of the past.\n\nJ.W.M.\n\n\n\n\n                        *The Ring of the Curse*\n\n                      (_Der Ring des Nibelungen_)\n\n\n                                *PART I*\n\n                            *THE RHINE-GOLD*\n\n\nHundreds of years ago in a wonderful time called the dawn of the world\nthere lived many strange beings which do not now exist.  Gods and\ngoddesses dwelt in the clouds that hovered about the mountain peaks.\nGreat untamed giants roamed amid the valleys.  Swarthy, misshapen\ndwarfs, called Nibelungs[#], toiled in the caves of the under-world\nheaping up treasures of gold and silver which never did anyone any good.\nUgly dragons crawled about on the earth; while beautiful water-nymphs\nlived in the rivers and seas.  Lastly there were heroes and savage men\nwho struggled together for the mastery in that far-off day when the\nworld was in the making.\n\n\n[#] Pronounced Nee-bel-oongs.\n\n\nHow the end came to all these strange things, and how the reign of the\ngods finally ceased, will be set down in this fourfold story I am about\nto tell you.\n\nIn the clear depths of the river Rhine, in Germany, once dwelt three\nwater-nymphs--lovely maidens who were very like other maidens, except\nthat they passed their whole lives under the water and could not be seen\nby ordinary eyes.  Fair were they in face, and graceful in form.  Their\neyes beamed gladness, for they had never known sorrow; while their long\ngolden hair floated about them like a garment, or tossed upon the\nwave-crest as they played some merry game of hide-and-seek amid the\ngrottoes of their watery world.  They were called the Rhine-Daughters,\nand thus in frolicsome play did they spend their days--free from all\ncare save one. It was this care and the sorrow following close upon it\nthat caused the present story to be told.\n\nUpon one of the highest rocks, deep down in the bed of the Rhine, was\nstored a great lump of pure gold, brighter and more dazzling than any\nother treasure ever known.  It was also more wonderful than any other\ngold, because it contained the power of making its owner master of all\nthe world.  This treasure had lain undisturbed in the river's bed for so\nlong that it had come to be known as the Rhine-Gold.  It was watched\nover by the Rhine-Daughters, in whose care their father had left it.\nThis was their sole duty--to keep guard night and day lest some thief\nshould come and steal the priceless treasure.\n\nOne bright morning the maidens seemed unusually merry.  They darted in\nand out the caverns with a speed which left the flying-fish far behind.\nThey laughed and chattered and sang, but glancing from time to time up\nat the precious Rhine-Gold, to see if it still glittered upon its\nprotecting crag.\n\n[Illustration: The Rhine-Daughters\nH. Hendrich\nBy permission of F. Bruckmann, Munich]\n\nPresently their happy noise at play attracted a passer-by, who clambered\nupon one of the jutting rocks to see what it was all about.  The\nnew-comer stood in the greatest contrast to the three laughing girls.\nHe was a dwarf, little and ugly and crooked, with a humped back and\nlong, claw-like fingers to match the eager, grasping look in his small\neyes.  He was Alberich, of the race of the Nibelungs--the earth-dwarfs\nwho dug for treasure in the underground caverns, and hammered and toiled\nwithout ceasing for the gold that never did them any good.\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" he exclaimed to the maidens.  \"A fair morning to you!\"\n\nThe nymphs started in alarm at the harsh, croaking voice.  Nor did their\nfirst sight of the visitor reassure them.  But they replied, civilly\nenough,\n\n\"A fair morning to you, sir!\"\n\nThen one of them darted swiftly upward, singing as she went\n\n    \"Guard well the Gold;\n    'Twas just such a foe\n    Our father foretold.\"\n\n\nNevertheless Alberich had paid no attention to the Gold, so pleased was\nhe by the nymphs and their gambols. And they in turn, losing their fear\nof the uncouth monster, and willing to tease him, asked him to catch\nthem in their game of hide-and-seek.  This he tried to do; but blinded\nby the unusual light, and stumbling awkwardly over the rocks, he could\nnever keep up with their fairy-like antics. First one and then another\nwould come near him or ascend the rocks, but it was always just beyond\nhis reach. Finally their laughter and teasing made him angry, and he\nstopped short, refusing to be made sport of any longer.\n\nJust then a ray of sunlight filtered down through the water and struck\nthe Rhine-Gold.  Instantly it glowed as though it were a mass of flame,\nreflecting a hundred shafts of light where one had smitten it.  The\nwhole river-bed was illuminated by the glorious rays.\n\nThe astonished dwarf looked toward the source of this splendour, and\nwhat he saw made his small eyes fairly bulge out with greed.  Yet he\nconcealed his amazement and waited to learn something about this\nsplendid treasure without betraying his own interest.  Fortune favoured\nhim.  His unspoken question was answered by the Rhine-maidens who surged\nupward with a glad cry of \"The Rhine-Gold!  The Rhine-Gold!\"\n\n\"What is this Rhine-Gold you are talking about?\" asked the dwarf with a\ngreat show of indifference.\n\n\"What!  Haven't you ever heard of the wonderful Rhine-Gold?\" asked one\nof the maidens thoughtlessly. \"We supposed it was famed over all the\nworld.\"\n\n\"But I dwell in the under-world and hear not the things which are spoken\namong men.  Tell me of it, I pray.\"\n\nThen the maiden forgot her father's warning to guard the treasure\nclosely.  She also felt nothing but contempt for this awkward little man\nfrom whom they could so easily escape.  She told the secret of the Gold\nin the words of a song\n\n    \"The realm of the world\n      To him shall it bring\n    Who out of this Gold\n      Shall fashion a Ring\n    Of magical power untold.\n\n\n\"Hum!  Say you so?\" said the dwarf, keeping his excitement down by a\npowerful effort, though his finger-nails fairly clawed into the flesh.\n\"If your metal is as fine as all that, why doesn't someone lay hands\nupon it and do all these great things?\"\n\n\"Sister, sister! be careful!\" said another of the nymphs.\n\nBut the first only laughed and replied, \"What can this silly old fellow\ndo?  Let us have some more fun teasing him!\"\n\nThen the third maiden floated gracefully near.  \"Why doesn't someone\nseize the Gold?\" she repeated.  \"'Tis because no one has yet been able\nto pay the price.\"\n\n\"What is the price?\"\n\n\"This is it,\" she answered.  \"Listen\n\n    \"'He who forswears the might of love,\n      And all its pleasures manifold,\n    He only has the magic art\n      To mould the Ring from out the Gold.'\"\n\n\n\"Pish! a pretty story you are telling me!\" said the dwarf.  \"As though a\nlittle matter like doing without love should make a person master of the\nworld!\"\n\nHe made a great show of scorn while he said these words, but all the\ntime he was edging quietly nearer the treasure.\n\n\"But love is the greatest thing in the world!\" said the first maiden.\n\"No one can do anything without its wonderful aid.  Why, even you--poor\nold fellow!--would not dare forswear it.\"\n\n\"_I_ would not dare forswear it--eh?\" exclaimed the dwarf with a snap of\nhis fingers and a wild laugh of triumph.  \"_Love_, forsooth!  What is\nlove to me, when gold is in question?  Hark you, Rhine-maidens!  I\nrenounce love for ever!  Be my witness!\"\n\nAnd he sprang rapidly forward, before the nymphs could prevent him,\nclambered up the jagged rock and seized the coveted treasure.\n\n\"Our Rhine-Gold!  Our Rhine-Gold!\" shrieked the maidens.  But it was too\nlate; already he had disappeared in one of the clefts of rock leading to\nhis cavernous home, and though they darted after him they could not find\nhim in the dark depths.  Only his mocking laugh came back to them.\n\n\"Ho, ho!  _Love_!  When all the world shall be mine!\"\n\n\nNow we have already seen that the nymphs and the dwarfs formed only a\npart of the strange world, so long ago.  At the very time when Alberich\nwas stealing the Gold and preparing to make the Ring of Power down under\nthe earth, there was an unusual happening in the home of the gods far up\non the mountains.\n\nFor a long time Wotan, the greatest of the gods, had desired a palace\nlarge enough to contain his kingly court. But he could find no one\nstrong enough to build it, until on a day two giants from the valleys\nbelow came into his presence.  Large were they of shoulder and thigh,\nmany times larger than ordinary men.\n\n\"We have come to build your palace,\" they said.\n\n\"Who are ye?\" asked Wotan, looking piercingly at them with his single\neye.\n\n\"I am Fafner, the frost-giant,\" answered one.  \"I can rend all these\nrocks asunder and build your palace in a single night, with the aid of\nmy brother Fasolt, here.\"\n\nWotan was overjoyed to find someone who would undertake his cherished\nplan.\n\n\"What payment do you desire for this service?\" he asked.\n\n\"You must give me the hand of your beautiful sister, Freia,\" answered\nFafner.\n\nWotan frowned.  He desired the palace above all things, just then, for\nit would enforce his visible rule over the world.  But Freia was his\nfavourite sister.  Moreover, it was she who was the goddess of youth and\nbeauty and who tended the tree of golden apples which kept the gods\nalways young.\n\nWhile Wotan was frowning and pondering to himself, his brother Loki\nwhispered in his ear,\n\n\"Let them build the palace.  We shall find another way out of the\nbargain.\"\n\nNow Loki, god of fire, was the craftiest of all the gods. So when Wotan\nheard his whispered advice his brow cleared, and he looked at the\ngiants.\n\n\"So be it!\" he commanded.  \"Build me the castle 'gainst another sunrise.\nIt shall be Walhalla--the supreme home of gods and men.\"\n\nThe giants bowed and went their way.  Presently the sound of mighty\nblows was heard, and terrific crashes as of the bursting asunder of\nrocks.  All that day and night the tumult continued, while the earth\nshook to its very foundations.\n\nThe next morning the rising sun lit up a splendid spectacle.  There\nstood Walhalla, magnificent home of the gods, upon the crest of a\ntowering cliff.  Its white walls gleamed and glistened.  Its towers and\nbuttresses were built of stones so large that they seemed placed for all\neternity; yet the whole mass appeared as light and graceful as a fairy\nvision.\n\n\"Beautiful!  Wonderful!\" cried the gods and goddesses in rapture.\n\n\"Let us take up our abode in our new home!\" said Wotan, with the delight\nof a schoolboy.\n\nBut just then the two giants appeared clad in their shaggy skins of\nslain animals.\n\n\"Hold!\" said Fafner.  \"First give us in payment the goddess Freia as you\npromised us.\"\n\n\"That I cannot do,\" replied Wotan.  \"You must think of some other way\nfor me to reward you.\"\n\n\"Not so!\" exclaimed the giants angrily, their hoarse voices making all\nthe mountain quiver.  \"Give us the maiden, as you agreed, else we shall\ntear down the palace quicker than we built it.\"\n\nAnd they placed themselves on each side of the trembling Freia.\n\n\"Touch her not!\" cried two gods, as they sprang forth to protect their\nsister.  \"Do you not know,\" continued one, \"that I am Thor, god of\nthunder, and that with one blow of my hammer I can crush you both?\"\n\nAnd he raised his hammer threateningly.  But now the great Wotan\ninterposed in his turn.\n\n\"Restrain your fury!\" he commanded, stretching forth the dread Spear of\nAuthority between the giants and the gods.  \"By this Spear the word of\nWotan cannot be broken; and unless Fasolt and Fafner agree to accept\nother reward, they must e'en take our sister with them to the regions of\nfrost.\"\n\nAt this command the contending ones fell back, but there arose a low cry\nof fear from the lovely Freia and a deep lamentation from the other\ngods.  For how could they live without their sweet sister, she who gave\nthem the apples of eternal youth?\n\nMeanwhile Wotan had been casting his eyes impatiently from side to side.\nHe was looking for his crafty counsellor, Loki, and wondering why he did\nnot appear with his aid; since he it was who had promised to find a way\nout of the bargain.\n\n\"Come, decide!\" said the giants, again stepping forward.\n\n\"Only one hour more,\" pleaded Wotan.  \"I must confer with my counsellor\nwho is just now absent.\"\n\n\"Only one hour, then,\" replied the giants.\n\n\"Send out messengers in search of Loki, god of fire,\" commanded Wotan.\n\"Let him be summoned instantly.\"\n\nBut at this moment who should appear but Loki himself, walking in\nunconcernedly and looking about in feigned surprise as though he were\nthe last person anyone would wish to see.\n\n\"Good-morrow, all!\" he said airily.  \"That is a beautiful castle I see\nupon yon mountain height.  I have just been examining it from every\nside, and upon my word it would defy even my arts to destroy it!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" replied Wotan, impatiently, beginning to be a little ashamed\nof his fine Walhalla.  \"But that is not the point, just now.  These\ngiants demand our sister Freia as their reward; and you remember you\npromised to find a substitute for her.\"\n\nThe sly Loki arched his eyebrows in mock surprise.\n\n\"A substitute for _her_!\" he exclaimed.  \"Why how could that be\npossible?  I should think that Fasolt and Fafner would rather have her\nthan all the treasures in the world.  Is she not the goddess of youth\nand beauty?\"\n\nAt this the two gods Thor and Fro raised their weapons in great anger,\nand would have fallen upon Loki, had not Wotan restrained them.  He knew\nthe cunning of the latter, and was persuaded that Loki had found a plan.\n\n\"Yes,\" proceeded Loki as calmly as though there had been no\ninterruption, \"all the riches in the world would not take the place of\nFreia.  Even the far-famed Rhine-Gold would hardly answer.  And,\nspeaking of the Rhine-Gold, do you know that I have just heard a strange\nstory.\n\n\"While passing along the banks of the Rhine, I became aware of the sound\nof pitiful weeping and wailing. I turned me about to see whence the\ndoleful sound came, and I beheld the three Rhine-Daughters.  They were\nno longer joyous and care-free as was their wont, but they were beating\ntheir breasts and tearing their hair while they cried, 'Our Rhine-Gold!\nOur Rhine-Gold!  Stolen! Stolen!'\"\n\n\"What!  Have they suffered the Rhine-Gold to be stolen?\" asked Wotan in\nalarm.\n\n\"'Tis as they said; for I stopped and questioned them.  They said that\nthe dwarf Alberich had seized upon the treasure and fled away to his\nearth-caverns, where he was even now making the magic Ring of Power. He\nhas set himself up as King of the Nibelungs, and he purposes to rule the\nwhole world.\"\n\nThe giants Fafner and Fasolt leaned eagerly forward and drank in every\nword of Loki's story--as indeed he had intended they should.\n\n\"Ah! that would be a prize worth having!\" they exclaimed, rubbing their\nhuge hands.  \"Mighty Wotan, if thou wilt wrest this treasure from the\nNibelung and give it to us, we will release the goddess.\"\n\nBut Wotan again grew disturbed and silent.  He knew that the Gold\nrightfully belonged to the Rhine-Daughters, and that it would prove a\ndanger even to the gods themselves, unless it were returned.  The giants\nsaw their advantage and followed it up.\n\n\"Decide for yourselves,\" they said, laying bold hands upon Freia.  \"Our\nwork is done and we claim the reward.  Either this maiden or the\nRhine-Gold.  And until you decide, she must follow us to the\nfrost-land.\"\n\nAnd unmindful of her cries of distress the giants bore Freia away,\nacross the cliffs and down the mountain-side, the gods standing\npowerless to prevent.\n\nAs they stood gazing in dismay a thin mist arose from the valleys, and\nit seemed to touch all the gods with blight, as it were a frost.  For\nthe goddess of youth and beauty was gone, and old age had already begun\nto lay hand upon those that remained.\n\n\"Come, this will never do!\" exclaimed Loki in jeering tones.  \"Will you\nstand in your tracks and let old age blight you?\"\n\nAnd then he began to taunt each of the gods separately, as was his wont.\n\n\"Look!\" cried Fricka, wife of Wotan, \"the golden apples even now are\nwithering.  Wotan, husband, behold thy doom!  See how thy compact hath\nwrought ruin and wreck for us all!\"\n\nWotan started up, fired by a sudden resolution.\n\n\"Up, Loki!\" he commanded.  \"Follow me.  We must fare to the caverns of\nnight and seize upon this Gold.\"\n\n\"And then----?\" asked Loki.  \"The Rhine-Daughters implored thine aid.\nWilt thou restore it to them?\"\n\n\"'Tis idle talk,\" retorted Wotan moodily.  \"Freia the goddess of youth\nand beauty must be ransomed, else we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"Then let us hence,\" said Loki, who had gained the point at which he had\naimed from the outset.  \"Let us hence.  I know a cleft in the rock,\nwhich serves as a chimney for the Nibelung's forge fires.  Perchance he\nis even now hammering out the Ring of Power.  Come, let us descend into\nhis cavernous dwelling.\"\n\nSo saying the god of fire wrapped his mantle about him and set forth,\nclosely followed by Wotan with his dread Spear of Authority.\n\nAs two simple wayfarers they travelled down the rocky chasm--down, down,\ndown, and still down, while the hammering from the forges grew louder\nand the sulphurous smoke came curling up more and more thickly, till it\nwould have suffocated anyone but a god.\n\nAt last they emerged into a huge cave, around which hurried hundreds of\nqueer little people, each as ugly and crooked and dirty as Alberich.\nThey were blowing the fires, pounding away upon huge masses of metal, or\nscurrying about with arm-loads of gold, silver, and precious stones.\n\nJust then the two wayfarers heard a quarrelling in a side passage of the\ncave, when in came Alberich himself dragging another dwarf shrieking by\nthe ear.  It was Mime, his own brother, but that made no difference with\nAlberich.\n\n\"Where's the helmet, you rogue?\" he said.  \"It shall not be well with\nyour skin if you don't give it up.\"\n\n\"Mercy, mercy!\" howled Mime, the tears making little furrows down his\ndirty face.  \"I haven't got it done yet.\"\n\n\"Yes, you have!  What is that you are trying to hide in your hands?\nGive it to me, I say!\"\n\nAnd Alberich seized the object which Mime had just dropped in terror.\n\n\"Ah! just as I thought!\" continued the stronger brother.  \"Here is the\nmagic helmet all complete; and this sly knave thought to keep it for\nhimself.  But I shall pay him for his treachery!\n\n\"Hark you, rascals!\" he continued, turning to all the other dwarfs.  \"I\nam your king.  Ye must henceforth serve me alone, and pile up all your\ntreasure in the royal vaults.  I have this day obtained the powers of\nmagic which make you my servants.  At this moment you see me not; but I\nshall make myself felt among you, I promise you!\"\n\nAnd with this speech he clapped the helmet upon his head and instantly\nvanished.  But in his stead there came a pillar of mist, and out of the\nmist came his voice sternly commanding them to obey.  Then the sharp\nlashes of a whip were heard right and left; and Mime fell groaning to\nthe ground while the others retreated in terror, seemingly driven along\na narrow way on the far side of the cavern.  Alberich was beginning his\nreign with a vengeance!\n\nMeanwhile the two celestial visitors had stood unnoticed in a side\npassage.  While they debated as to the best means of making their\npresence known, Alberich came back in his true shape, carrying the\nhelmet in his hand, fondling the Ring upon his finger and chuckling with\nglee.  Then he espied the two gods, and his brow wrinkled darkly.\n\n\"Why come you to my caverns?\" he demanded. \"Know you not that I am king\nhere, and that strangers are not welcome?\"\n\n\"We have but come to see some of the marvels of which we have heard so\nmuch,\" said Wotan pacifically.\n\n\"Humph!\" said Alberich.  \"You look quiet enough, but I think I know you\nboth.  Yet I fear you not, whether gods or men; for _I_ am master here.\"\n\n\"And what if we are indeed gods, dear Alberich?\" said Loki, taking off\nhis mantle.  \"See, I am the god of fire, and your best friend.  Do I not\nkeep all your forges going?\"\n\n\"Yes, that may be true,\" retorted Alberich.  \"But for all that I fear\nneither you nor Wotan the mighty. With this Ring made from the\nRhine-Gold I can defy you all.\"\n\nAlberich's accustomed low cunning had vanished before his sudden access\nof power.  He was no match for the crafty god Loki.\n\n\"Oh, what a beautiful ring!\" exclaimed the latter, bending forward\nadmiringly.  \"Is it really made from the far-famed Rhine-Gold?\"\n\n\"It is,\" said Alberich, swelling up.  \"I made it myself, and its\npossession gives me everything in the whole world except love.\"\n\n\"But some people think that love is the chief thing,\" said Loki.\n\n\"Pooh! that's because they haven't the gold I have. The two do not go\ntogether anyway, and never will. As for me, give me gold and power.\"\nAnd he kissed the Ring.\n\n\"But what if someone stole the Ring while you slept,\" persisted Loki.\n\n\"They couldn't,\" retorted the dwarf quickly.  \"See this helmet?  That\nsilly brother of mine yonder in the corner has just made it for me out\nof some more of this fine Rhine-Gold.  With it I can change myself into\nany form I choose, and defy the slyest of robbers.\"\n\n\"Oh, that cannot be!\" replied Loki.  \"Only the gods can do such things.\nUnless I saw such a marvel with my own eyes, I never would believe it.\"\n\nAlberich looked with scorn upon this doubting fellow; then willing to\nprove his boast, he put the helmet upon his head and muttered a few\nwords.  Instantly he was gone, and in his stead a huge serpent came\nwriggling along the floor, stretching its hideous jaws toward Wotan and\nLoki.  The latter fled in pretended terror, while Wotan laughed calmly.\nThe snake then disappeared, and the dwarf once more stood before them.\n\n\"_Now_ do you doubt my power?\" he asked proudly.\n\n\"Oh, it was wonderful!\" exclaimed Loki, rolling his eyes.  \"I couldn't\nhave believed it possible!  But I should think it would be a great deal\nharder to turn yourself into something small?\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" replied the Nibelung.  \"Watch this!\"\n\nAnd before the gods were aware, he was gone again. They looked high and\nlow, and there among the small stones a toad came hopping toward them.\n\n\"Quick, put your foot on him!\" exclaimed Loki.\n\nWotan put his foot upon the toad, and instantly it was gone, and in its\nplace Alberich lay struggling vainly to get out.\n\n\"Let me up!  You are crushing me!\" screamed the dwarf.\n\n\"Not until you give us every bit of the Rhine-Gold, the helmet and the\nRing,\" said Wotan.\n\n\"You can have all but the helmet and the Ring; and there's a lot of\nit--beautiful Gold!\" whined Alberich.\n\n\"No, _all_ of it!\" said Wotan.\n\n\"You can have the helmet, too.  Ough! you're smashing me!\"\n\n\"The Ring and _all_, I tell you!  Here, Loki, bind him with that rope!\"\n\n\"Then take the Gold, the helmet and the Ring!\" cried the dwarf\ndespairingly.\n\nThey bound him, and let him up.  As soon as he could catch his breath,\nhe continued,\n\n\"Take the Ring and _all_!  But listen well to what I say.  My curse\nrests upon it for ever.  Cursed be he who owns it, whether eating or\nsleeping or waking.  Cursed be he and all his, whether god or devil.\nSorrow and unhappiness shall go with this Gold through all the ends of\nthe earth!\"\n\nNotwithstanding this dread curse, the gods seized the Ring from off his\nfinger and lost no time in making off with the treasure, leaving the\ndwarf grovelling upon the floor and muttering fierce words against them.\nAll their care now was to ransom their sister and drive away the mists\nof old age.\n\nOn their way up the mountain height they met the two giants bearing away\nthe struggling Freia in their clutches.\n\n\"Hold!\" commanded Wotan; \"bear her no farther. We have brought the gold\nto ransom her.\"\n\n\"Is it the far-famed Rhine-Gold?\" asked Fafner.\n\n\"See for yourselves!\" said Loki, casting the glittering heap upon the\nearth.  \"In all the world ye will not find its like.\"\n\nThe giants gazed greedily upon the hoard, and drew near to parley.\n\n\"'Tis indeed a wonderful treasure,\" they said; \"but the mass must equal\nin height and breadth the stature of this comely goddess.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" answered Wo-tan, and he commanded that staves be set upright\nin the ground and that the Gold be heaped between them.  Thor and Fro\nand others of the gods had now arrived upon the scene--all overjoyed at\nthe prospect of Freia's release; for already the blighting mist was\nbeginning to lift, though it yet concealed the fair towers of Walhalla.\nMeanwhile Loki had been careful to withhold the Ring and the helmet from\nthe rest of the hoard, which was now quickly heaped up between the\nupright staves.\n\nAt last, just as the Gold was exhausted, the pile rose above the top of\nFreia's head.\n\n\"Here, take the treasure,\" said Wotan, \"and release our sister unto us.\"\n\n\"Nay, not so,\" said Fafner.  \"I see a hole in the heap, and through it\ngleams the goddess's hair, brighter than any gold.  You must fill the\nhole.  Cast on the helmet which yonder Loki is bearing.\"\n\nWotan could scarce restrain his rage at this rude bartering of his\nsister, while the impetuous Thor fingered his mighty hammer nervously.\nBut Wotan saw it was useless to refuse.  He made a sign of command to\nthe unwilling Loki, and the latter cast the helmet on the heap.\n\nFafner again walked around it looking closely on every side.\n\n\"Ah!\" he exclaimed.  \"Here is just one more little crack.  But through\nit I can see the gleam of the goddess's lovely eyes.  You must place the\nRing here to make the ransom complete.\"\n\n\"Never!\" cried Wotan furiously.\n\n\"Very well, then.  We shall be forced to take the goddess with us.\"\n\nAnd once more Fasolt laid his rude hands upon the shrinking maiden.\n\nThereupon a great tumult began.  The voices of the gods rose in entreaty\nto Wotan to give up the Ring and save their sister and themselves.  Thor\nsprang forward with uplifted hammer, while the hoarse voices of the\ngiants bade defiance to them all.  Again the dread mist crept up from\nthe valleys, and darkness descended from the clouds.  Still Wotan\nremained defiant.  He was turning away in anger from the tumult, when\nout of a cleft in the rock a weird bluish light broke forth, and there\nemerged a woman of dignified and noble mien. Her long black hair swept\nupon the ground, and her flowing robe seemed made of all the leaves and\ngrowing things of the soil.  She was Erda, the spirit of Mother-Earth,\ngifted with wisdom and foresight such as was not given even to the gods\nthemselves.\n\nErda stretched her hand out warningly toward Wotan.\n\n\"Yield, O Wotan!\" she cried.  \"Escape the curse of the Ring, and all the\nhopeless woe it entails!\"\n\n\"Who art thou, boding spirit?\" demanded Wotan. And in a chanting voice\ncame back the reply:\n\n    \"All that was I know,\n    All that is I know,\n    All that ever shall be done,\n    This as well I know.\n\n    Erda the name I bear,\n    The Fates my daughters are,\n    Danger threatens dire,\n    This has drawn me near;\n\n    Hearken! hearken! hearken!\n    All that is shall end.\n    Heed ye well, ere dawn of doom,--\n    Beware the cursed Ring!\"\n\n\nAs the chant ended, the bluish light died away and with it vanished the\nwarning figure.\n\n\"O stay, dread spirit!\" cried Wotan.  \"More would I learn!\"\n\nBut only silence answered him; and after gazing into the darkness in\nanxious thought, he turned suddenly and approached the giants.\n\n\"Here is the Ring,\" said he sternly, drawing it from his finger and\nplacing it upon the heap.  \"Begone, and leave us our sister!  But a\ncurse has fallen upon the Gold.\"\n\nAnd so it proved.  The gods themselves were witness of the first-fruits\nof the curse.  For as the two giants fell greedily to work gathering up\nthe treasure, a dispute arose.  Fasolt claimed that Fafner was taking\nmore than his rightful share.  They came to blows over it, when Fafner\nsmote Fasolt to the ground with a blow so heavy that it killed him.\nThen the victor, unmindful of his deed, hastily gathered up all the\nwealth and departed, while the gods stood around silent and amazed that\nthe curse should descend so swiftly.  And Wotan foresaw in this tragic\nmoment the awful doom which was one day to descend upon them all,\nbecause the Gold had not been restored to the Rhine-Daughters.\n\nBut his gloomy thoughts were broken just then by a mighty crash, like a\npeal of thunder.  There upon the cliff leading to the beautiful new\npalace which had cost so much, stood Thor wielding his hammer upon the\nencircling clouds.  Flashes of lightning burst forth. The clouds and\nmist rolled away, revealing Walhalla in all its splendour; while from\ntheir feet, in dazzling radiance, gleamed a rainbow-bridge leading\nacross the chasm to its portals.\n\n\"Come! let us go over to our new home!\" said Wotan, taking his wife\nFricka by the hand.\n\nAnd followed by the laughing gods and goddesses, who surrounded Freia,\nfairest of the group, they went across the rainbow-bridge and entered\nthe stately halls of Walhalla.\n\nThe setting sun shone brightly on the scene.  The clouds had melted away\ninto blue sky, leaving a soft radiance which seemed to encircle their\nnew home in a halo of delight.  The evening fragrance of the valleys\ncame up to them redolent with the springtime of growing things.  As they\ntrod the shining pathway the jests and merriment of the gods showed\ntheir gladness in this new home that had been made for them at so great\na cost.\n\nStill Wotan was not happy.  He had decided seemingly for the best; but\nas he crossed the arching bridge he heard voices from the valley far\nbeneath him, rising like the tones of conscience or the warnings of\nfate.  It was the mournful song of the Rhine-Daughters:\n\n    \"Rhine-Gold! purest Gold!\n    How fair thy gleam,\n    Thy wealth untold!\n    But now thy rays\n    Light not the stream;\n    Ah! give them back--\n    Give back the gleam,\n    Rhine-Gold!\"\n\n\n\n\n                               *PART II*\n\n                           *THE WAR-MAIDENS*\n\n\nThe new home of the gods proved to be as beautiful within as it had\nappeared without.  When they had all crossed the arching rainbow-bridge,\nloud shouts of joy and admiration arose; for it was the most splendid\npalace that gods or mortals could ever imagine.  Long porticos and\ngalleries with huge sculptured pillars ran in every direction, leading\nto cool fruit arbours, or open courts where silvery fountains splashed.\nGreat rooms opened up with ceilings so high that they seemed to take in\nthe sky itself.  The spacious floors were paved with burnished gold, and\nthe walls set with polished stone and fine jewels, so that they blazed\nwith light as bright as the noonday.\n\nOn every side of the palace were smooth greenswards, and groves of\nstately trees.  And in the midst of the largest grove of all grew the\nwonderful tree bearing apples of gold, from which Freia fed all the\ndivine family to make them immortal.\n\nFor a long time the gods and goddesses lived in Walhalla quite happily.\nEach morning they found some new beauty to admire.  Each evening they\ncame together for a feast or entertainment.\n\nBut in one heart there was no happiness, and that was the heart of the\nmighty Wotan himself.  His beautiful home, the dream of his life, was\nfinished.  But at what a cost!  The curse of the Rhine-Gold would come\nupon them, unless the stolen treasure were returned to its rightful\nguardians.  The gods themselves would be destroyed, if they kept not\ntheir honour.\n\nSo Wotan sat apart from the rest, and his brow grew dark with\nforebodings.  Fricka, his wife, gently chided him for his gloom but to\nno avail, and even the beautiful Freia could no longer make him smile.\nWhen any of the other gods praised the beauty of the palace, he would\nnod his head and answer; \"Its price was great.\"\n\nFinally Wotan could endure his anxiety no longer. Knowing that unless\nsome way were found to restore the Gold they would be in constant peril,\nhe resolved to consult Erda, the earth-spirit.  So, one day he took his\nSpear of Authority and went forth into the world to find a way out of\nthe trouble which had come to him with Walhalla.\n\nThe weeks grew into months and the months into years, while Wotan was\ngone.  The other gods sought him in vain, but could hear no tidings.\nThey wondered what had become of him, and the feasting and revelry gave\nway to sad forebodings.  Only Fricka, the queen, went about with some\nmeasure of confidence.\n\n\"Be not sad,\" she said.  \"Wotan will return soon, bringing with him some\ngreat means of safety and content.\"\n\nFricka spoke true.  One fair day at early dawn the gods were awakened by\nthe sound of war-like singing.  It was entirely different from their own\nmusic, and it seemed borne to them on the wings of the wind.  Nearer and\nnearer came the song, swelling into a splendid strain of triumph.  Then\nflying figures were descried, and the watchers at the window saw Wotan\nreturning to them as it were through the clouds.  He was in the midst of\na company of maidens, whose faces were fair but who were strong and\nsoldier-like.  Each rode upon a powerful horse, and, wonder of wonders,\nthe horses had wings like eagles and flew swiftly through the air!\n\nThere were nine of these horses and riders in all, and so fast did they\nride that they had reached the palace gates, dismounted, and were being\nled within by Wotan almost before the first strains of music had died\naway.\n\nYou may believe that all the gods and goddesses were exceedingly glad\nwhen they saw Wotan again; and they hastened out upon the battlements to\ngreet him and give him love and honour.  To one and all he replied full\npleasantly.  His brow was clearer than it had been in many a day; and it\nwas with the sprightliness of youth that he led the nine fair warriors\nup the broad palace steps.  Then turning he addressed his court.\n\n\"These are the War Maidens,\" he said, \"who come to guard our kingdom\nfrom its enemies.  It is their mission to ride up and down in all the\nworld, to choose the bravest heroes who have fallen in battle, and to\nbring them to Walhalla.  With all these heroes we shall be protected\nfrom peril in the evil days to come.\"\n\nThen Wotan introduced each War Maiden by name, beginning with Brunhilde\nwho was the strongest and the loveliest.  And they were welcomed royally\nto the palace by all who lived therein.  The golden apples of life were\ngiven them to eat, and they became immortal.\n\nDay by day the War Maidens rode forth into battle, seeking for the\nbravest men.  Whenever they found one who had fallen in the forefront of\nconflict, they carried him to Walhalla where he became immortal.  There\nwas much fighting in the world in those days, so the palace soon\nreceived many mighty soldiers, and Wotan grew light of heart.  For now,\nhe thought, he could defy the dwarf's curse and all the powers of the\nunderworld.  So he trained his soldiers constantly, and had them\ncontinually in battle, one against another.  And if one by chance\nreceived a wound it healed of itself through magic power.\n\nStill the loss of the Gold and of the Ring was an ever-present danger.\nWotan knew this, and cast about for some means to restore the treasure\nto the Rhine-Daughters so that the peril might be removed.\n\nNow Fafner the giant had taken the Gold to a cave in the midst of a\ndense forest.  By the aid of the magic helmet he had changed himself\ninto a fierce dragon, and in this shape he guarded the mouth of the cave\nnight and day.  So you see that he wasn't getting very much pleasure out\nof his hoard.\n\nBeing a god, Wotan of course knew where Fafner the dragon lay hid.  But\nneither he nor any of the gods could attack Fafner or lay hands upon the\ntreasure.  It had been given the giant in open barter and so was beyond\ntheir recall.  But Wotan reasoned that if some earth-born hero could be\nfound brave enough to slay the dragon, the Gold could be secured.\nFailing this, the dwarf Alberich might in the end be crafty enough to\nregain it and wreak his vengeance upon the gods.\n\nThe peril was still great therefore, in spite of the warriors in\nWalhalla.  Wotan realised all this and resolved to journey again through\nthe world in quest of a hero to attack the dragon.  For many days he\nsearched without success.  Then he chose a son of his own for the great\ntask, living with him as a simple forester while the boy grew up, and\ntraining him to warlike deeds.  The boy's name was Siegmund, and as he\nreached young manhood he was straight as a young pine-tree in the forest\nand strong as the oak which defies the winds of heaven.\n\nWhile Siegmund was still a youth a great sorrow befell him.  Sieglinde a\nyoung girl of his own age with whom he had grown up, and whom he looked\nupon as a sister, was seized by a fierce hunter and carried away to his\nhome in the forest.  For many months Siegmund sought to rescue her, but\nwithout success.  He grew to manhood with this object before him, and\nvowed eternal warfare against the hunter and all his clan,--a vow Wotan\naided him to keep, until the very name of Siegmund became a terror to\nthe hunter.\n\nThen another sudden grief befell the young warrior. Wotan mysteriously\nwent away one day, leaving no trace and no message save that when\nSiegmund should be in direst need he would find a trusty sword at hand\nto aid him.  Siegmund now felt forsaken indeed; and he roamed about\naimlessly in the forests, hunting the wild beasts, helping people in\ndistress, or fighting against the hunter's tribe.\n\nOne night, utterly spent from his wanderings, he sought shelter in a\nhouse built in a peculiar manner round the trunk of a great oak-tree.\nSeeing no one within the main room he entered, closed the door behind\nhim, and lay down exhausted in front of the fire, where he soon fell\nfast asleep.\n\nPresently a maiden came into the room.  She expected to find the hunter\nthere, for this was none other than his house, although Siegmund did not\nknow it.  When instead of the master of the house the maiden saw the\nstranger lying upon the hearth, she sprang back in sudden fear.  But the\npoor man did not move, so she came gently to his side, to see whether he\nwere alive or dead. Siegmund stirred uneasily in his sleep, then,\nwakening, tried to utter a few words, but his parched lips gave forth\nlittle sound.  Seeing his pitiable state, the maiden hastened to give\nhim a drink.  It revived him somewhat, and he sat up and gazed around.\nThe maiden gave him more of the cup and gently asked him whence he came.\nHe answered and began telling her of his wanderings without revealing\nhis name.  Just then the hunter himself arrived; but neither he nor\nSiegmund recognised the other as his sworn enemy; and the hunter noting\nthe young man's distressed condition bade him welcome for the night and\ninvited him to the table to share his food.  Siegmund accepted the\ninvitation joyfully, and soon found his strength returning to him in the\nmeat and drink.\n\nIn answer to his host's questions, he told the story of his past\nadventures; and the hunter found, for the first time, that his guest was\nthe foe whom he had long been seeking to slay.\n\n\"Ha!  I know you now!\" he exclaimed, springing to his feet.  \"It is you\nwho have done so much harm to me and mine!  I would make you answer for\nyour deeds here and now, were it not for the sacred laws of hospitality.\nBut to-morrow I shall meet you!  At sunrise be ready to fight and give\nme full satisfaction!\"\n\nSiegmund was astonished in his turn, but could not refuse the challenge.\nThe hunter left him with these words, bidding the maiden also go into\nanother room.\n\nLeft to himself the young man fell again into heaviness of spirit.  It\nseemed to him that sorrow and trouble had followed him all the days of\nhis life.  He mused over his present defenceless condition--alone,\nunarmed and under his enemy's very roof.  Then he recalled his father's\npromise, that a sword would be ready at his hand when his need was\ndirest.  Somehow the thought of this promise brought comfort to him, and\nhe fell into a quiet slumber.\n\nAfter a time, during the stillness of night, a door opened softly and\nthe maiden came toward him.\n\n\"Up!\" she said, gently rousing him.  \"Up and flee for your life!  The\nhunter has been planning mischief against you, but I gave him a sleeping\ndraught.\"\n\n\"Why should I flee?\" said Siegmund.  \"Give me but a sword and I turn my\nback upon no man!  But who are you, fair lady, who do this kindness to a\nstranger? Methinks I have seen your face in earlier days than this.\"\n\n\"And I also seem to remember you,\" she answered, gazing at him\nearnestly.  \"My story is not a long one, but it is sad.  When I was a\nlittle girl, this cruel hunter carried me away from home, and he has\ncompelled me to live with him ever since.  But one day during a feast a\nstrange-looking man with only one eye came in, bearing a mighty sword.\nHe drove the sword to the hilt in the trunk of yonder tree, with one\nsweep of his arm, declaring that it was for only one man--the man who\nshould be able to pull it forth again.  Many stout men that day and\nsince have tried to claim the sword, but there it sticks, there you may\nsee the firelight strike the handle. Perchance, poor stranger, it was\nleft for you!\"\n\n\"Ah, now I know my father's words were true!\" Siegmund cried, joyously.\n\"See! the sword is mine!\"\n\nAnd laying hold of the handle he drew the shining blade as easily as\nthough the tree had been its scabbard.\n\n\"And thou, also, I know, my heart's best!  Thou art Sieglinde, for whom\nI have sought all these years.  Dost thou not remember thine old\nplaymate Siegmund?\"\n\nShe gazed at him first with startled look; then a tender light of memory\nand love dawned in her eyes.  Siegmund stretched out his arms to her and\nthe two were reunited in a fond embrace.\n\n[Illustration: \"The Two were reunited in a fond Embrace\"\nH. Hendrich\nBy permission of the \"Illustrirte Zeitung\" (J. J. Weber, Leipzig)]\n\n\"Come!\" said Siegmund; \"now will I flee, and thou must go with me.  My\nfather's sword shall shield us both, and never again while I live shall\nthis robber have thee in his clutches.\"\n\nThe moon was shining brightly on this warm night in early spring.  The\nwide world seemed to beckon her two children forth; and answering her\nsummons and the glad call of their own hearts they fled away.\n\n\nKing Wotan knew of all these things.  He knew that his dearly loved son\nSiegmund had found the magic sword, and had fled from the hunter's home.\nHe foresaw also that the hunter would rise up full of wrath the next\nday, and pursue Siegmund to kill him.  This must be prevented.  The god\nsummoned Brunhilde before him.\n\n\"Wisest and fairest of War Maidens,\" he said, \"in yonder mountain gorge\nthou wilt discover a young man and a maiden who are dear to me.  The\nmaiden has been stolen away from a hunter who held her against her will,\nand the hunter now pursues the young man with intent to slay him.  It is\nmy will that he be not slain, but that he gain the victory over the\nhunter.  See thou to it!\"\n\nBrunhilde gladly listened to Wotan's behest.\n\n\"It shall be done as thou desirest!\" she exclaimed. \"Hoyo-to-ho!\"--the\nmusical shout of the War Maidens came from her lips as she sprang from\ncliff to cliff and disappeared.\n\nBut she had hardly gone before Fricka, Wotan's queen, entered in a\nchariot drawn by two rams.  Now Fricka was goddess of love and justice,\nand it grieved her that Siegmund should be allowed to take Sieglinde\naway with him as he had done.\n\n\"Justice, O Wotan!\" she cried, \"against the young man Siegmund!  The\nhunter from whose house he fled away, carrying the maiden Sieglinde, has\ncalled to me for help, and I have promised to aid him.\"\n\n\"The hunter held the maid against her will,\" replied Wotan.\n\n\"Nathless his right to her had become recognised among men.  So she must\nbe restored to him, else men will say that there is no justice in the\nworld.\"\n\nWotan's brow was wrinkled moodily.  He knew that Sieglinde had dwelt so\nmany years under the hunter's roof that all men believed she rightfully\nbelonged there. Yet in his heart he longed to protect his son.\n\nFricka saw the struggle but would not relent.  She added many words to\nwhat she had said and urged her case so strongly that every law the gods\nhad made seemed enlisted in the hunter's cause.  At last Wotan, heavy in\nspirit, agreed to give the victory to him.\n\nAfter Fricka had departed, he called Brunhilde again to him and told her\nof his last decision.  Brunhilde was full of grief when she learned that\nshe must aid the hunter against Siegmund.\n\n\"Why dost thou do this, O father?\" she asked gently.\n\n\"Because the laws of the gods demand it,\" he answered.\n\nThen the sorrow-stricken Wotan unburdened his heart to her and told her\nof the Rhine-Gold; of the Ring that had been fashioned from it; of the\ncurse that had followed; and of many other things which we have set\nforth in this book.\n\n\"The curse of the Ring is the fate of Siegmund,\" he concluded.  \"That is\nwhy I am powerless to protect him.  See that thou dost obey my latest\ncommand!\"\n\nSo saying he departed, amid the rumblings of a thunder-cloud, leaving\nBrunhilde full of sorrow at the strange tale she had heard and the sad\nerrand she must perform.\n\nBut she turned her steps dutifully down the mountain gorge, and there in\na sheltering cave she found the young man and maiden.  Sieglinde had\nbecome tired out from their wanderings, and Siegmund had borne her into\nthe cave and was supporting her head upon his knee, while smoothing back\nthe stray locks of gold from her lovely forehead.  So intent was he upon\nthis devotion that he did not see Brunhilde when she came into the\nentrance.\n\n[Illustration: \"Siegmund was supporting her Head upon his Knee\"\nJ. Wagrez\nPhoto, Braun, Clement & Co.]\n\nIf the War Maiden had longed to befriend these two before she saw them,\nhow much more did her heart soften when she beheld this sweet picture!\nBut her duty must be done.  She called softly to Siegmund and he raised\nhis head.\n\n\"I am the War Maiden,\" she said, \"and am sent to warn thee of thy fate.\nThine enemy follows hard upon thy heels; and none who look upon my face\nsurvive a battle.\"\n\n\"I fear not for the battle,\" answered Siegmund stoutly.  \"This magic\nsword was left me by my father, and with it I must surely be\nvictorious!\"\n\n\"It will avail thee not; for the gods have decreed that thou must die.\nBut glory awaits thee in Walhalla, whither I am summoned to bear thee\nafter death.\"\n\n\"What is Walhalla?\" he asked.\n\n\"It is the Hall of Heroes, among whom thou wilt be first.\"\n\n\"Will I find my father there, and my sweet comrade Sieglinde?\"\n\nThe search for these two had consumed the youthful warrior's whole life,\nso his voice trembled eagerly as he asked this question.\n\nBrunhilde smiled, then shook her head sadly.\n\n\"Thy father?--Yes, in Walhalla shalt thou find him. But Sieglinde cannot\ncome to thee there.\"\n\n\"Then take my greetings to Walhalla!\" he exclaimed.\n\n    \"Greet for me Wotan!\n    Hail to my father\n    And all the heroes!\n    Hail the War Maidens;\n    For now I follow not thee!\"\n\n\nBy this time Brunhilde's heart had become so touched that she boldly\nresolved to disobey Wotan's last command, and do as he really desired.\nSmiling upon Siegmund, she bade him be of good heart, as she had only\nbeen testing his courage.  Then she told him she would be with him and\naid him in the coming strife.\n\nEven while she spoke the hunter's horn was heard, and soon the man\nhimself came hastening fiercely along.  He did not see Siegmund at\nfirst, for a heavy storm had come up, while the heavens seemed rent with\nterrific crashes of thunder.  The din finally aroused the sleeping\nSieglinde, and she gazed around wildly.  Siegmund had sprung out of the\ncave to confront his enemy; and there in front of the cave he stood\nrevealed by a flash of lightning battling strongly with the hunter.\nSieglinde uttered a cry of grief and was about to rush between them when\nanother sudden blaze of light made her draw back.  At one side she\nbeheld the War Maiden standing ready to protect Siegmund.  The young man\npressed upon the hunter and was about to strike him to the earth with\nhis trusty sword, when a glowing red flame burst through the clouds.\nWotan himself appeared with his dread Spear and stretched it across the\nsword.  The magic blade broke in sunder, and Siegmund fell dead, pierced\nby the hunter's weapon.  But the hunter himself did not survive the\nconflict, for a glance from the single blazing eye of the angry god\nstretched him lifeless on the sward.\n\nWhen Wotan appeared, Brunhilde started back amazed and fearful.  She\nbegan to realise what it meant to disobey the god's command.  Hastily\nseizing the fainting form of Sieglinde she sprang upon her winged steed\nand fled swiftly from the tragic scene.  Far and fast through the storm\nshe sped, glancing around fearfully ever and anon, and fancying each\nrumble of the thunder was Wotan's voice.  Then she turned her horse's\nhead toward the summit of a lofty crag.  It was the usual meeting-place\nof all the War Maidens on their way to Walhalla.  Soon the crag came in\nsight, and there awaiting her were her eight companions, hailing her\nswift approach with \"Hoyo-to-ho!\" their battle cry.\n\nHardly taking time to answer their joyous greetings, Brunhilde placed\nSieglinde gently on the ground and cried,\n\n\"Save us, O my sister!  Save us from the wrath of Wotan!\"\n\n\"Why, what crime hast thou committed?\" cried the other War Maidens in\nalarm.\n\n\"I have disobeyed the god's command, and even now he rides hard after me\nupon the wings of the tempest! Save this innocent mortal, at least!  She\nhas done no wrong.\"\n\n\"I do not wish for life!\" exclaimed Sieglinde, who had just recovered\nconsciousness.  \"Why should I live when Siegmund is dead?  I pray you\ndraw your sword and slay me!\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Brunhilde soothingly.  \"The Fates decree that thou must\nlive.  And see, I have saved for thee the Sword of Need which was broken\nin Siegmund's hands.  Keep it for his son, the hero who shall know no\nfear, and he shall do mighty deeds with its mended blade.\"\n\nSo saying Brunhilde drew from the folds of her cloak the two pieces of\nthe broken sword and gave them to Sieglinde and whispered in her ear\nwords of tenderness and balm.  And Sieglinde's face lost its hopeless\nlook, and she promised to go wherever the War Maiden might direct.\n\n\"Haste thee, then!\" urged Brunhilde.  \"The time is short.  In only one\nplace wilt thou be safe from Wotan, and that is the depth of yonder\nforest.  There dwells Fafner the dragon, and there Wotan never ventures\nbecause of the curse of the Ring.\"\n\nThe tempest had increased in fury while Brunhilde was speaking.  The\ndense darkness shielded Sieglinde while she hurried away.  She was\nscarce gone, hugging the precious sword, when a terrific clap of thunder\nshook the whole cliff and Wotan appeared in a flash of light.\n\n\"Brunhilde!  Brunhilde!\" he called.\n\nBrunhilde did not answer; and the other War Maidens, braving his anger\nthrough loyalty and love for their sister, hid her in their midst.\n\n\"Brunhilde!\" again thundered Wotan, \"stand forth! Art afraid to hear thy\ndoom?\"\n\n\"Not so, O mighty father!\" replied Brunhilde; and she stepped forward\nproudly and knelt at his feet.\n\n\"Ah, Brunhilde! how couldst thou disobey my command?\" asked Wotan more\nin sadness than in anger.  \"Thou hast brought thy fate upon thyself.\"\n\n\"I but tried to save one who was dear to thee,\" she answered.\n\n\"But thou didst violate my will, and henceforth can be a War Maiden no\nmore.  Thou must descend to earth, lose thy immortality, and live the\nlife of any other woman.\"\n\nOn hearing this terrible decree, by which she lost the rank of goddess,\nBrunhilde sank upon the ground with a piteous cry.\n\n\"Have mercy, O Wotan!\" she pleaded.  \"I tried to meet the wishes of thy\nheart, as given in thy first command.  Do not banish me for ever from my\ndear sisters and thy beloved presence.  Have mercy!\"\n\n\"Have mercy!\" cried her sisters stretching out their hands toward the\ngod.\n\n\"Silence!\" said Wotan solemnly.  \"I have spoken, and it must be done.\nAh, dearly loved maiden, how gladly would I save thee if it were so\ndecreed!  But thou must sink to the ground in deep sleep.  And it shall\ncome to pass that in after years the man who shall awaken thee shall\nclaim thee for his bride.\"\n\n\"As for ye other maidens,\" he continued, glancing around with a flash of\nthe eye, \"beware how ye fail to keep faith with me again!  And come not\nagain into my presence this day.\"\n\nThe War Maidens fled in woe and terror at this speech, leaving Brunhilde\nand Wotan alone upon the rock.  The sky was clearing, the wind was dying\naway, and the moon came forth and looked down upon the scene.  There was\nsilence for many long moments, until Brunhilde, unable to endure it,\nrose slowly to her feet in all her beauty and pride, yet with wild\nentreaty in her voice.\n\n\"Oh, father, father!\" she pleaded, \"save me from this fate, for the\nhonour of all the gods!  Do not place me within reach of any coward\namong men, who might chance to awaken me.  If I must fall asleep to wake\na mortal woman, grant me this last request.  Place me in some spot so\nhedged about with danger that none but the bravest of all men may find\nme and claim me for his own!\"\n\nWotan gazed at her--all the old love and pride for her shining in his\neyes.  He gently drew her to him and kissed her upon the eyelids.\n\n\"It shall be as thou dost wish,\" he said.  \"I shall shield thee with a\nbarrier of living fire so that none save a true hero can rescue thee.\nAnd now farewell, my darling child!  How I shall miss thee in Walhalla,\nand on our rides of glory, thou dost little know. Farewell! farewell!\"\n\nBrunhilde clasped her arms about his neck and smiled for the last time\nin his face.  He bent down and kissed her again, and yet again.  A deep\nsleep came over her and she sank slowly down.  Wotan carried her\ntenderly to a low mound of moss upon the very crest of the towering\nrock, and there he placed his shield over her to protect her from all\nharm.  Again he gazed long and mournfully on her features, then closed\nthe visor of the helmet she wore, and turning began a mystic waving of\nhis Spear of Authority.  He ended by summoning Loki, god of fire.\n\n    \"Loki, hark,\n    Hitherward haste,\n    As I found thee first,\n    In a fiery waste;\n    As once thou didst fly\n    In fiery display;\n    As then I did call thee\n    I call thee to-day!\n    Arise with thy flaming--\n    Encircle this place,\n    To daunt the craven\n    Whom my spear could not face!\n    Loki!  Loki! arise!\"\n\n\nAt the last call he struck the rock thrice with his Spear, and instantly\na stream of fire gushed forth and licked upward in tongues of flame from\nevery side.  Higher and wider they spread, leaping and crackling till\nthey formed a complete circle round the mossy bed where Brunhilde lay\nsleeping.  And as they swept upward in the night air they seemed to\nblend in strains of music sweet as the thrumming of a harp and soft as\nthe lullaby of a mother crooning her child to sleep.\n\n\n\n\n                               *PART III*\n\n                        *SIEGFRIED THE FEARLESS*\n\n\nSeveral years passed by while Brunhilde lay in her enchanted sleep.\nSummers and winters came and went, yet still she lay there unharmed in\nher magic circle of fire, and growing no whit older than when she first\nsank down in slumber, in all her youth and beauty.\n\nDown in the depths of the forest far below the crag on which she rested,\nFafner the dragon still guarded the Rhine-Gold and Ring.  He had come to\nbe known only as the dragon, because--giant though he was--he had always\nbeen afraid to leave this hideous shape lest someone should overcome him\nand seize the treasure.\n\nAnd he had good cause to fear.  Although the Gold bore a curse with it,\nthere was more than one who sought to lay hand upon it.  Wotan the\nmighty had even forsaken the beautiful palace of Walhalla which cost him\nso much, and was now roaming over the earth seeking some hero to slay\nthe dragon.  He had indeed come to be known as the \"Wanderer\" because of\nhis constant search.  The dwarfs also had by no means forgotten the\nglittering hoard which had been taken away from them.  Alberich went\nabout in sullen discontent, biding his time; while Mime, his brother who\nhad made the magic helmet, could not forget the Gold night or day.  Mime\nknew where the dragon lay hid, so he set about laying plans to outwit or\nslay him.\n\nNow the dwarfs had always lived deep down in the caves of the earth.\nThey had seemed actually afraid of the sunlight, and it may be that they\nwere afraid of their own shadows, for no greater cowards ever lived. But\nwith all their cowardice they were sly, and had a wonderful faculty of\nfinding out all sorts of secrets. Mime had discovered the whole story of\nthe Gold, the helmet, the Ring, the curse, the building of Walhalla, and\nthe dread which had fallen upon the gods.  He learned of all this and\nmany other things; and he laughed and rubbed his hands craftily.\n\n\"Aha!\" he said, \"_I_ will find a way to seize the Ring and rule the\nwhole world!  I will watch this dragon day and night, and sooner or\nlater I shall surprise him.\"\n\nSo Mime the dwarf summoned up courage enough to appear above ground.  He\nbetook himself to Fafner's forest, where he soon found the huge monster\ncrouched before the door of his cave.  For many days and nights Mime lay\nhid, waiting for a chance to slip past the great beast, but no such\nchance came.\n\n\"I shall have to kill him,\" said Mime to himself.  And at the bare\nthought his teeth chattered with fear.  \"But even if I had a sword stout\nenough and long enough to reach his heart, I should never have courage\nenough to wield it.\"\n\nThis thought was very discouraging to him, yet he was unwilling to give\nup hope of the Gold.  For many more days he pondered and plotted, till\nat last he thought of a plan.\n\n\"I have it!\" he exclaimed slapping his thigh.  \"I shall build a\nblacksmith's forge hard by here in the wood, where I shall make nothing\nbut swords.  At last my skill will bring forth the best blade in the\nworld, and I shall offer it to the mightiest hero who may come riding\nby. Who knows?  Perhaps one will be found brave enough to fight the\ndragon, when I tell him just how to do it. Then after he kills the\ndragon--we will see!\"\n\nHe chuckled at the cunning plan he had made, while the evil light in his\neyes boded no good for the after fate of the chosen hero.\n\nThis plan seemed wild, yet it was the best that offered, so Mime began\nat once.  He built his smithy, and having been used to this trade all\nhis life in the under-world, he speedily felt quite at home.  Soon his\nforge-fires shone brightly through the forest, and the sound of his\nhammering disturbed the birds and beasts.\n\nOne day during a lull in his work he heard a faint tap at his door.  He\nasked harshly who was there, but receiving no reply he peered cautiously\noutside.  There on the threshold lay a poor woman feebly holding a\nlittle child in her arms.  Her strength seemed spent, and even the rough\nMime felt pity for her distress.  He carried her into the smithy and\nlaid her near the forge-fire, then hastened to pour some cordial down\nher throat.  The drink revived her slightly and she sat up and tried to\nlift the child.\n\n\"Take care of him,\" she gasped.  \"His name is Siegfried.  He comes from\na race of heroes.\"\n\n\"How am I to know that he is of hero born?\" asked the dwarf bluntly.\n\n\"Here, here!\" she answered eagerly, drawing some fragments of a sword\nfrom the folds of her dress.  \"It was his father's sword--the wonderful\nSword of Need. Keep it safe for him and he shall do--mighty--deeds----\"\n\nHer voice trailed into silence, and the dwarf bending down perceived\nthat she was dead.\n\nIt was poor Sieglinde who had hid away from the wrath of Wotan, as\nBrunhilde had bidden her.  At last her sad life was ended, and perchance\nher spirit found peace with that of Siegmund in some happier clime.\n\nMime now turned his attention to the little child for the first time.\nHe saw that its limbs were sturdily knit, and that already it held its\nhead erect and looked one squarely in the eye--which was more than the\ndwarf had ever done in his whole life.\n\n\"Who knows?\" muttered Mime.  \"This may be the hero for whom I have been\nwaiting.  I will bring him up as my son, and train him to my set\npurpose.  At any-rate he could soon be useful blowing the fire.\"\n\nSo he adopted the little Siegfried and cared for him, during his\nhelpless days, in a dwarf's rude way.  He hollowed out a log for the\nbaby's cradle, and spread a bearskin over it.  He gave him goat's milk\nto drink, and let him play with the broken handles of swords.  Every\nfair morning he carried him out into the bright sunshine and left him to\nkick his heels and shout back answers to the singing birds.  But the\ndwarf himself rarely ventured outdoors.  He seemed to prefer the soot\nand smoke of his forge-fire.  He hammered away, and hummed a moody tune,\nand took comfort in thinking of the day when this foster-child should be\nsent to slay the dragon.\n\nBut if Mime had expected the lad to mend the fires and work in the shop,\nhe soon found himself mistaken. The little fellow thrived wonderfully\nand took to the life of the forest naturally.  On the other hand, he had\nno use for the forge or, it must be confessed, for his foster-father. He\nsoon came to despise the dwarf as a coward, for he himself showed no\nfear of anything.  So he roamed every day in the forest returning only\nat nightfall with some animal he had slain.  Once he harnessed a wild\nbear with ropes and drove it into the blacksmith's shop, nearly causing\nMime to fly out of his wits from terror.\n\nWhen Siegfried arrived at young manhood he was a goodly sight to look\nupon.  His limbs were strong and powerful, yet rounded and graceful.\nHis skin was tinged with the ruddy hue of outdoor life.  His fair hair\nfell in soft curls to his shoulders, as the manner then was; and his\nblue eyes met one's look frankly and fearlessly.\n\nThough he had been taught to look upon Mime as his father, Siegfried\nsoon rejected this belief with scorn.  He felt no love for the dwarf,\nsuch as a son would feel; and he could not help contrasting his own\npowerful frame and courage with the smith's weak, cringing way.  The\nonly tie which now bound them together was a promise made by the dwarf\nthat he would forge a sword with which Siegfried could win every battle.\nThe young man waited impatiently for this sword to be made; and Mime\nactually worked early and late to finish it.  But alas! no sooner would\nhe temper a blade so that it seemed perfect, when Siegfried would return\nfrom the chase and say,\n\n\"Ho! _this_ is the sword you have made for me to-day!\"\n\nAnd he would shiver it to bits upon the anvil.\n\nThis went on day after day, until Siegfried lost all patience and began\nto threaten the dwarf.\n\n\"Hark you, Mime!\" he cried.  \"Give me the stout blade you promised, or\nit will not go well with you to-morrow night.\"\n\n\"You would not harm your father!\" whined the dwarf.  \"Remember how I\nhave cared for you and sheltered you.\"\n\n\"I have long since paid that score in meat and skins,\" answered\nSiegfried.  \"And as for you being my father, you know that is false.\nAnswer me directly!  I would know who my father was!\"\n\nHis manner was so threatening that the dwarf was thoroughly frightened.\n\n\"I--I--do not know who your father was,\" he stammered; \"your mother was\nSieglinde, a poor woman whom I sheltered here when you were a baby.  She\ngave me an old broken sword.  See, here it is!\"\n\nAnd he rummaged beneath a pile of skins and brought to light the pieces\nof the magic Sword of Need.\n\n\"Ha! that is good metal!\" cried Siegfried, as he examined it.  \"I will\nhave no sword but this.  See to it that 'tis mended for me 'gainst\nanother night.\"\n\nThe smith promised, though in a quaking voice, for he was by no means\ncertain that he could mend the weapon. His fears were well founded.\nWhen he tried to do so, the next day, the pieces refused to unite in his\nhands. After making repeated attempts he sank down behind the anvil in\ndespair.\n\nAt this moment a strange-looking man entered the doorway.  He was tall\nand powerful.  He wore a long dark cloak, and carried a spear instead of\na staff.  On his head was a large hat whose broad brim shaded one eye\nthat was evidently injured or missing.\n\n\"The Wanderer!\" muttered the dwarf in abject fear.\n\nIt was indeed Wotan the Wanderer.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" he demanded in a voice of thunder, pointing\nto the broken blade.\n\n\"I--I am trying to mend the--the Sword of Need,\" said the dwarf.  He\nknew there was no use in telling an untruth, as Wotan had already\nrecognised the weapon.\n\n\"Where did you get it?\" Wotan asked.\n\n\"'Twas given me by Sieglinde the mother of Siegfried. Mercy, mercy!  I\ncannot mend it!\"\n\n\"Peace, fool!  You speak truth.  No one but the hero who knows no fear\ncan weld those pieces together!\"\n\nSo saying he struck his spear upon the floor with a noise like thunder\nand turning strode away into the forest.\n\nMime dared not look after him or ask any questions. Indeed, he was in\nsuch utter terror that he did not venture from behind the anvil, where\nhe lay hid all day.  And here it was that Siegfried found him when he\nreturned home.\n\n\"Mime, have you got my sword done yet?\" he called.\n\n\"Pardon! pardon!\" whined the dwarf.  \"Oh, I have had such an awful\nscare!\"\n\n\"A scare?  What is that?\" asked Siegfried.\n\n\"I mean, I have been in dreadful fear,\" answered Mime.\n\n\"Fear?  What is that?\" asked Siegfried.\n\n\"Know you not what fear is?\" said Mime, starting up and remembering\nWotan's words that only the hero who knew no fear could mend the sword.\n\nThe young man shook his head.\n\nMime pressed the subject further.  \"Suppose you should meet a great\nmonster in the forest,\" he said; \"a huge dragon whose eyes and mouth\nshot fire, whose tail lashed this way and that, tearing down the trees,\nwhose tongue was sharp as a sword, and whose terrible fangs could crush\nyou like an insect.  Suppose this terrible dragon should come rushing\ndown to devour you.  How would you feel?\"\n\n\"There is no such beast as that,\" replied Siegfried smiling.\n\n\"Oh, but there is!\" urged the dwarf, his own eyes growing big with alarm\nas he thought of Fafner.  \"There is!  Down in the depths of this very\nforest lurks a dragon ten times more dreadful than I have said.  He lies\ncrouched in a thicket before a cave, and even the gods are afraid to\ncome near him.\"\n\n\"Then he would be worth fighting!\" exclaimed Siegfried with flashing\neyes.  \"Forge me this sword as you promised, and then show me the way to\nhis lair!\"\n\n\"I cannot mend the blade,\" confessed Mime sullenly. \"Only he who has no\nfear in his heart can mend it or wield it.\"\n\nSiegfried glanced at him a moment in anger; then as if despairing of\ngetting the dwarf to do the work, he seized the fragments with one hand\nand the bellows with the other.\n\n\"Stand aside!\" he commanded.  \"I will mend the blade.\"\n\nAnd he set to work while the dwarf looked on in wonder.\n\nFirst Siegfried took a file and began rubbing the steel into fine\npowder.\n\n\"Stop!\" screamed the dwarf.  \"You are ruining it.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, I am not,\" laughed Siegfried, filing the faster.\n\nSoon the sword, all but the handle, was changed into powder.  Then\nSiegfried placed the powder over the fire and blew a bright blaze\nunderneath it.  And as he worked the bellows he sang from pure joy in\nhis work,\n\n    \"Hoho! hoho!\n    Hahei! hahei!\n    Bellows blow\n    The blaze on high!\n    Deep in the wood\n    There lived a tree:\n    Its ashes here\n    In the flames I see,\n\n    Hoho! hoho!\n    Hahei! hahei!\n    Bellows blow:\n    The tree must die!\n    But the flashing fire\n    Hath won its way;\n    It sputters and flares\n    In the metal's spray.\n\n    Hoho! hoho!\n    Hahei! hahei!\n    Bellows blow\n    The flame on high!\n    The Sword of Need\n    Will soon be made\n    And then aloft\n    I shall flash my blade!\"\n\n\nWhen he finished the song the powder had become a molten mass.  He ran\nthis into a mould and plunged it into the water.  The loud hiss of\ncooling metal was heard.  Presently he seized the new blade with a pair\nof pincers and heated it red hot.  Allowing it to remain but a moment in\nthe coals, he placed it upon the anvil and beat it mighty blows till the\nblade was sharp and thin. Then heating it once again he fastened it to\nthe handle.\n\nHe swung the weapon critically and tested its temper. Again he heated\nit, and beat it till the shop was filled with flying sparks.  But now it\nemerged bright and keen--the most perfect blade in all the world.\nTriumphantly he sang,\n\n    \"Ah, Sword of Need!\n    Anew thou art wrought;\n    Back unto life and strength\n    Thou art brought!\"\n\n\n\"See, Mime!  _This_ is the sword I wished you to forge!\"\n\nAnd making the sword whistle about his head he brought it down squarely\nupon the anvil.  From top to bottom the heavy anvil was cleaved, falling\ninto two pieces with a thunderous noise.\n\n\"Farewell!\" cried Siegfried; \"the smithy sees me no more from this day.\nI go to seek the dragon!\"  And he hurried forth with his wonderful new\nsword into the forest.\n\n\"Wait a moment!\" called Mime, running after him; \"you cannot find the\ncave unless I show you the way.\"\n\n\"I thought you were too great a coward for that,\" laughed Siegfried.\n\n\"Who's afraid?\" panted the dwarf as he caught up with him.  \"Besides I\nam only going to point out the place.  You are the one that's going to\nbe eaten!\"\n\nIn fact Mime was quite anxious to have the young man meet the dragon.\nNo matter how the fight turned out, he reasoned that he himself would be\nthe gainer. In the event of Siegfried killing the beast and escaping\nunharmed, Mime intended to give him a poisonous draught which he had\nprepared.  Then with both these foes out of the way, the dwarf believed\nthat the wonderful Gold of the curse would be his without any further\nstruggle.\n\nBut in this Mime was wrong, for his brother Alberich, who had first\nstolen the Gold from the Rhine-maidens, was even then watching the\ndragon's cave and had been on guard there night and day.  Wotan the\nWanderer found him there upon this day of fate, and unheeding the\ndwarf's taunts and reproaches told him of Siegfried's and Mime's\napproach.  Alberich now hid behind some rocks to watch what should\nhappen.\n\n\"See, that is the cave,\" said Mime, pointing it out to Siegfried when\nthey were still some distance away.  \"I can go no farther, as I am very\ntired from running to catch up with you.  But go straight ahead, and I\nwish you success--and the dragon an equal amount!\"  The last words he\nmuttered to himself, then scurried for a safe place where he could watch\nthe fight.\n\nIt was a beautiful morning, and the birds were carolling sweetly in the\ntree-tops.  Siegfried cast himself down upon the sward to rest himself\nand enjoy the quiet sylvan scene a little while.  The birds seemed to be\ntalking to him.  He could not understand their sweet language, but he\ntried to imitate it upon a reed whistle.  Failing in his attempt he\nseized the horn which was slung around his shoulders and blew a loud\nclear note as a challenge to the dragon.  At once a tremendous crashing\nsound was heard in a near-by thicket.\n\n\"Ah! that must be the dragon!\" said Siegfried craning his neck without\ngetting up.\n\nAgain he heard the roar, followed by a terrible snorting and hissing and\nyawning, and out came a huge lizard-like serpent plunging through the\nunderbrush toward him.\n\n\"Who are you?\" it growled.\n\n\"Oh, you can talk, can you?\" said Siegfried.  \"I am a man who has been\nsent to you to learn what fear is.\"\n\n\"You will find out if you live long enough!\" roared the dragon showing\nits fangs and licking out a long forked tongue.  \"I will devour you in\ntwo mouthfuls.\"\n\n\"Oh no!\" laughed Siegfried.  \"I object.  But if you do not teach me what\nfear is, it will be the worse for you!\"\n\nThis taunt angered the dragon, as Siegfried intended. It sprang forward,\nlashed about with its tail and poured forth flame and smoke from its\nnostrils.  Siegfried leaped easily to one side and evaded both dangers.\nThe dragon turned upon him at close range and struck again with its\ntail.  Siegfried vaulted high in the air, so that the tail swept the\nground smoothly under him without touching.  Quick as a flash he smote\nthe scaly back with his keen sword, so that the black blood poured forth\nin torrents.  The dragon uttered loud bellows of rage and pain, and\nreared upon Siegfried with the forepart of its body in order to crush\nhim; but as it reared, its breast was exposed, and Siegfried was swift\nto seize his advantage.  With a powerful blow he drove the Sword of Need\nup to the hilt in the monster's heart.\n\n\"Woe is me!\" gasped the dragon rolling upon the earth in a dying\ncondition.  \"Reckless youth, do you know what you have done?\"\n\n\"I know I have slain a foul beast because he would not teach me fear.\"\n\n\"Ah, I perceive you are the tool of others,\" said the dragon in a weak\nvoice.  \"Know then that I am Fafner, the last of the giants' race.  I\nguarded the Rhine-Gold; but beware of it! a curse follows all who\npossess it! Beware!\"\n\nThen with a dreadful groan the dragon expired.\n\nSiegfried drew his sword from its breast, and as he did so a drop of\nblood fell upon his hand.  It burned like a coal of fire, and\ninstinctively he licked it with his tongue to stop the pain.  Suddenly a\nstrange new power came upon him.  He knew not what it was, but stood\nsilent and amazed waiting to discover what it could be.  Then in the\nsilence a bird sang to him from a linden-tree--the same song he had\nheard before; but this time he could understand it!  It was as though\nthe bird were speaking his own tongue!\n\n\"The Rhine-Gold is now yours,\" it sang.  \"There in the cave you will\nfind it.  Be careful to take also the helmet of darkness and the Ring of\nPower.\"\n\nSiegfried thanked the friendly bird, and hastened into the cave.  While\nhe was gone, Mime and Alberich crept up and for the first time became\naware of each other's presence.  A violent quarrel at once began as to\nwhich should claim the treasure, but it was speedily silenced by the\nreturn of Siegfried clad in shining armour and bearing the helmet and\nRing.  The two dwarfs slunk away again unperceived by the young man, who\nwalked thoughtfully along listening to the wood-bird, which had\nrecommenced its song.  And these were the words of the song:\n\n    \"Ha!  Siegfried now holds\n    Both the helmet and the Ring;\n    Beware of sly Mime--\n    Trust him not in anything!\"\n\n\nSiegfried again thanked the bird for its warning, which was indeed\ntimely; for Mime now approached him with great pretended delight in his\nsafety.\n\n\"Have you learned what fear is?\" he asked with a grin.\n\n\"No, I have not,\" answered Siegfried.\n\n\"Then sit you down and rest, bravest of men!\" said the dwarf.  \"And see,\nhere is a cooling cup of mead I have brought for you.  It will quiet you\nand cause you to forget your weariness.\"\n\n\"It is poison,\" retorted the young man.  \"Thanks to the dragon's blood,\nI can read all your wicked heart! Wretch, take your just deserts!\"\n\nWith that he dashed the poison cup to the ground, and stretched the\ndwarf, with one blow, dead at his feet.\n\n\"It was his life or mine at the last,\" he said, as he wended his way\nthoughtfully into the forest.  In spite of his victory over the dragon,\nhe was not elated. Instead, he was thinking how barren his life had been\nwithout friends or kindred, and how aimless it seemed even now, despite\nthe Gold.  Sighing heavily he sat down upon a log and buried his face in\nhis hands.\n\n\"Lonely, lonely!  Of all men I am most lonely!\" he cried.\n\n\"Would you find a love to comfort you?\" sang the clear voice of the bird\nover his head.  \"I know where you might find the fairest lady in all the\nworld.\n\n    \"On a lofty crag she sleeps,\n    Her guard is a flaming fire;\n    And he must bravely pierce the blaze\n    Who would win his heart's desire.\"\n\n\nSiegfried sprang to his feet.  \"This quest is to my liking!  Tell me\nmore about it!\" he exclaimed.\n\n    \"The bride to win,\n    Brunhilde to wake,\n    Is no coward's task,\n    Or whom fear doth shake.\"\n\nThus sang the wood-bird again, and Siegfried listened to him joyfully.\n\n\"Show me the way to the lofty crag, I pray you, good bird!\" he\nexclaimed.  \"Show me the way, that I may greet the lady or look into the\nface of fear!\"\n\nBy way of answer the little bird fluttered away toward the heights\nleading up the mountain-side.  Siegfried eagerly followed, over stones,\nthrough thickets, beneath huge trees, across dangerous chasms, but\nalways being careful not to lose sight of the bird.\n\nAt last they came to a wild rocky gorge, extending to the last line of\ncliffs, and there the bird suddenly disappeared.  But Siegfried saw a\nnarrow chasm like a giant's pathway leading upward to the crest, and\nthis, he decided, was the route he must follow.  After a last look to\nsee where the bird had gone, he prepared to ascend the path, when he\ncame face to face with Wotan.\n\nSiegfried had never seen the god before, and now was in nowise dismayed,\nalthough the strange-looking figure in long cloak and broad hat was\nlarger and more commanding than any he had ever met before this day.  In\nWotan's hand was the Spear of Authority, with which he ruled the world.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" asked the god.\n\n\"I know not,\" replied Siegfried.  \"A little bird told me of a rock\nsurrounded by fire, and of a lovely maiden who sleeps there.  But now\nthe bird is gone, and I must find my way alone.\"\n\n\"Do you not fear the fire?\"\n\n\"Fear?  That also have I come to seek.  Know you the way?\"\n\n\"It lies up through yonder rift,\" replied Wotan, wishing to test the\nyoung man's bravery yet further; \"but the journey is one of terror.\nUpon the mountain-top the flames leap fiercely.  Sheets of fire driven\nbefore the wind rage on every side.\"\n\n\"The fiery foe I challenge!\" answered Siegfried.  \"I must rescue\nBrunhilde at any cost.\"  And he strode toward the rocky chasm.\n\n\"Back, rash youth!\" commanded Wotan, stretching out his Spear.  \"You\nshall not pass while this all-powerful weapon prevents!\"\n\n\"It shall not avail against this magic blade!\" replied Siegfried,\ndrawing the Sword of Need.\n\nWotan started at sight of the fateful blade.\n\n\"Where got you the weapon?\" he asked.\n\n\"At Mime's forge I made it--the best metal in the world!\"\n\n\"But it shall not avail against the Spear, for by it was the Sword first\nbroken,\" answered Wotan.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried Siegfried, rushing forward.  \"Then you were my father's foe!\nOn guard, before my Sword brings vengeance upon you!\"\n\nHe swung the Sword with terrific force through the air.  It met the\nSpear with a crash like thunder, and the once powerful Spear was broken.\nThe owner of the Ring was indeed master of the world!\n\n\"Go forward!\" said Wotan sadly.  \"No longer can I hold you.  The doom of\nthe gods was foretold before you came into the world.  You are but the\ninstrument of fate.\"\n\nAnd he disappeared.\n\nSiegfried glanced at the spot where he had stood, in astonishment.  Then\nseeing no further bar to his progress, he ran lightly up the rough\npathway.  Presently he heard a dull roaring sound and saw, on the\nmountain height, a huge mass of flames which leaped in every direction\nand seemed to touch the very sky.  Red and wrathful they shone, shutting\noff the pathway by what appeared to be a solid body of fire, while\nclouds of smoke hid the view on every side.\n\nBut Siegfried pressed forward undaunted.  Putting his hunting-horn to\nhis lips he sounded a merry note as if in challenge.  And as he went on,\na wonderful thing happened.  The fire parted slightly to right and left,\nletting him pass by unharmed.  On he went until he came to the inner\ncircle which the flame had guarded; and now it vanished utterly, leaving\nthe blue sky and the free air of heaven.\n\nOn the moss-covered rock Siegfried saw someone lying asleep, beneath a\nheavy shield.  He lifted this and beheld what appeared to be a youth\nclad in bright armour.  The helmet hid the face, but when he carefully\nremoved the heavy head-dress a mass of beautiful golden hair was\nloosened.  The features were those of the lovely Brunhilde.\n\n[Illustration: \"Siegfried saw some one lying Asleep beneath a heavy\nshield\"\nJ. Wagrez]\n\n\"Ah! it is not a man!\" exclaimed Siegfried gazing at the face in\nrapture.  \"It is the maid I have come to seek!  How still she is!  How\ncan I waken her from this slumber?\"\n\nHe tried gently to rouse her by calling, but there was no response.\nOnly her deep breathing told him that she was alive.\n\n\"'Tis the fairest vision I could ever have dreamed of seeing!\" he\nmurmured; \"the one maid I could worship and serve!  Now I cannot waken\nher, and all my past hardships have been in vain.\"\n\nHe knelt down and gazed long and rapturously into her face.  Then unable\nto restrain his emotions any longer he bent and pressed his lips full\nand fervently upon hers.\n\nInstantly the maid awoke.  While Siegfried started back in rapture she\nsat up as easily as though yesterday had witnessed the beginning of her\nlong sleep.  She gazed about her in delight, and burst forth into a\nlittle cry of gladness:\n\n    \"Hail to thee, Sun,\n    Hail to thee, Light,\n    Hail, thou luminous Day!\n    Deep was my sleep,\n    Long was the night!\"\n\n\nThen looking about she asked, \"Who is the hero that has come to waken\nme?\"\n\n\"I am Siegfried,\" he replied modestly.\n\n\"Siegfried, son of Sieglinde?\" she cried.  \"Then I knew your mother in\nthose past years before I fell asleep!\"\n\n\"Oh, tell me of her and of my father!\" he exclaimed, his eyes shining.\n\"But, I am not thoughtful,\" he added in another tone.  \"You are in need\nof refreshment after your long slumber.\"\n\n\"I am a daughter of the gods,\" she answered, \"and feel no faintness or\nweariness as mortals do.\"\n\nSiegfried, who had come near to her, drew back as though struck by a\nblow.\n\n\"A daughter of the gods!\" he exclaimed.  \"I--I hoped to claim you for my\nbride!\"\n\nIn his ingenuous youth, his inner thoughts rose naturally to his lips.\n\nBrunhilde smiled sadly and shook her head.\n\n\"See yonder horse, which also has been asleep?\" she asked.  \"It is\nGrani, my winged steed, upon which I used to ride through the clouds\nwith my sisters.  Would you bid me stay upon earth?\"\n\n\"Ah, Brunhilde, my love is selfish, I know!  But if your heart could\nfeel half the fire that burns in mine, you would gladly stay upon earth\nlike other women!\"\n\n\"Like other women!\" the words brought back the decree of Wotan in a\nflash, and Brunhilde sat as though stunned.  Then she looked proudly at\nthe fearless hero with his frank face and deep blue eyes; and as she\nlooked the love-light shining in his face was lit upon her own.\n\nSiegfried knelt and pressed his lips to her hands, with bowed head.  He\ndared not look again for very joy, and afraid lest the light he had seen\nshould be vanished.\n\n\"Brunhilde!  Brunhilde!\" he whispered.  \"Can it be true?\"\n\nFor answer Brunhilde clasped her arms around his neck and looked up\nlaughingly into the sky.  And again she sang--this time a note of glad\nrenunciation.  The proud War Maiden, the daughter of the gods, had found\na joy in the mortal life of a loving woman, such as she had never\ndreamed.\n\n    \"Away, Walhalla!\n    Glorious world!\n    Farewell thou gorgeous\n    Realm of the gods!\n    End in delight\n    O lofty race!\n    Night of destruction\n    Thy terrors are gone;\n    I stand in the glow\n    Of Siegfried's star!\"\n\n\nThen Siegfried in his turn sang of love and Brunhilde. And the two sweet\nvoices blended together at the last in a triumphant strain,\n\n    \"My own for ever,\n    And parting never,\n    For aye and ever.\n    Shining in Love!\n    And smiling at Death!\"\n\n\n\n\n                               *PART IV*\n\n                       *THE DOWNFALL OF THE GODS*\n\n\nWhen Brunhilde promised to become Siegfried's wife she well knew what it\nwould cost her.  She would no longer be of the family of the gods, nor\nwould she have strength and wisdom beyond other mortal women.  Yet she\nnow had no regrets.  Her love for her hero eclipsed every other thing,\nand she knew only that she was entirely happy in the present.\n\nLong the lovers sat and talked, forgetful of all the outside world.\nSiegfried told Brunhilde of his adventures; his fight with the dragon;\nhis possession of the Ring; and finally his encounter with the\nmysterious stranger whose spear he had shattered.\n\nBrunhilde started up at this.  She had recognised Wotan at once from the\ndescription.\n\n\"The spear was _broken_, you say?\" she exclaimed questioningly.  \"Are\nyou sure it was broken?\"\n\n\"It fell shivered upon the ground beneath my sword.\"\n\n\"What did the stranger do?\"\n\n\"He looked sadly at me, saying that he was powerless to hinder me\nfurther.  Then he vanished suddenly.\"\n\n\"Ah, woe to the gods!\" ejaculated the maiden. \"Their doom is indeed\ncoming upon them!  Siegfried, the spear you broke was the dread Spear of\nAuthority with which great Wotan ruled the world.  Now, all the old\norder of things shall pass away.  Walhalla itself must fall, because of\nthe curse of the Ring.\"\n\n\"The curse of the Ring?\" asked Siegfried in an astonished voice.  \"What\nis that?\"\n\n\"It is the sad fate which has followed upon the heels of a bad deed,\"\nshe answered.  \"King Wotan himself told me the tale upon that day so\nlong ago when I disobeyed him.\"  She shuddered slightly at the memory,\nthen went on; \"It is bound up in your own fate, so I will tell you also\nthe story.\"\n\nThen Siegfried listened with wide-open eyes while Brunhilde told him of\nthe lost Rhine-Gold; the building of Walhalla; the reward of the giants;\nand the curse of the Ring.  His breath was bated and his eyes were very\nmoist when she told further of Siegmund and Sieglinde and the wrath of\nWotan.\n\n\"Then you were the protector of my father and mother!\" he said,\nembracing her joyfully.  \"Ah, how much love and devotion do I owe you,\nfairest and dearest of goddess-maidens!\"\n\n\"Will you never forget me?\" she asked.\n\nBy way of reply he drew the magic Ring from his finger and placed it\nupon hers.\n\n\"Let this be our troth,\" he said.  \"From this moment it becomes a\nblessing instead of a curse, and our lives shall be one life for\nevermore.\"\n\n\"It shall tell me always of you,\" answered Brunhilde. \"For I know you\ncannot linger here, dearly as I should desire it.  You come of a race of\nheroes, and great deeds await you upon earth.  Your sword must not grow\nrusty in idleness, nor your strength weak through ease.\"\n\n\"'Tis true,\" he said, with a sad but resolute look in his blue eyes, as\nhe glanced far over the nestling valleys. \"'Tis true that my lifework is\nyet to be begun.  But, alas!  Brunhilde, how can I leave you?  You are\nthe only person I have ever known that gave me sympathy or love.\"\n\nBrunhilde pressed his hands tenderly.\n\n\"My sympathy and love shall always be for you!\" she whispered; \"and here\nshall I wait your return to me. Loki will build his barrier of fire\nabout me once more, and only you, the hero who knows no fear, can find\nyour way back again.\n\n\"And now take with you Grani, my good horse.  He can no longer fly\nthrough the clouds as formerly, when his mistress was one of the\nimmortals.  But he will go through fire and water for you, and will be\nyour devoted slave.\"\n\nThe maiden called the beautiful horse, which had been aroused out of\nsleep at the same time she was awakened, and which was now grazing near\nby.  Grani came to them whinnying gently.  Siegfried patted the steed's\nsoft nose, then took the bridle slowly, as if unwilling to speak.  He\ngirded on his sword, placed his helmet firmly upon his head, and slung\nhis bugle around his shoulders.\n\n\"Farewell, beloved!\" said Brunhilde softly.\n\n\"Farewell, beloved!\" he answered.  \"My hunting-horn shall tell you from\nthe valley all that I cannot say.\"\n\nOne lingering embrace, and he turned and led his steed down the steep\npath.  Brunhilde watched his descent with shining eyes.  Presently from\nthe valley below she heard the mellow notes of the horn sweet and clear.\nThen the faint gallop of hoofs told her that Siegfried had gone forth\ninto the world to play the part Fate gave him.\n\n\nSeveral days passed by.  Grani steadily and swiftly bore his rider over\nmountains, through valleys, and across rivers with untiring zeal.  It\nwas not until they reached the noble river Rhine that Siegfried drew\nrein. Upon the crest of a hill, across the stream from where they stood,\nrose a splendid castle.  It seemed to belong to the king of the country,\nfor it was very large, and a pennant floated from an upper turret.  The\ncurrent of the river was deep and swift at this point, but a small boat\nwas moored not far from Siegfried.\n\n\"Come, Grani!\" he said dismounting; \"I will take the boat, while you\nswim beside me across the stream. This promises an adventure!\"\n\nGrani obeyed, and they were soon in the channel, heading toward the\ncastle.\n\nNow this castle was the seat of a king of an ancient and warlike tribe.\nHis name was Gunther, and he tried to deal fairly with every man.  He\nhad a beautiful sister Gudrun; and, also, a half-brother named Hagen, a\nsly fellow who was always plotting mischief.  Hagen, in fact, was the\nevil genius of the castle.  You will not wonder at this when I tell you\nthat he was of kin to the Nibelungs, Alberich and Mime.\n\nLike all of dwarf blood, Hagen had a passion for gold, and was also\nadept at discovering secrets.  He knew of the stolen Rhine-Gold; and he\nhad also learned--perhaps through Alberich--of Siegfried's quest of\nBrunhilde.  Thereupon he began to plot, and he told King Gunther just\nenough of his plotting to get the monarch's interest aroused.\n\nOn this very day when Siegfried had started across the river toward the\ncastle, Hagen had been telling the King that he ought to find a queen.\nAnd then he told of the beauty of Brunhilde, and how she slept upon a\nlofty cliff surrounded by a barrier of fire.\n\n\"None but the bravest of heroes can rescue her,\" Hagen continued.  \"But\nthere is one who is even now upon this quest.  He is called the bravest\nof the brave, and his name is Siegfried.\"\n\nThen turning to the Princess Gudrun, he added slyly, \"Perchance\nSiegfried is the hero _you_ have been awaiting, O Princess!  He is\nhandsome as he is brave.\"\n\nNow Gunther liked not the idea of another man being braver than he.  But\nhe only said, \"I should like much to see the fair Brunhilde; but if I\ncould not pierce the flame, how could I persuade Siegfried to do so in\nmy stead, seeing this is his own quest?\"\n\n\"Leave that to me,\" laughed Hagen.  \"I would brew him a drink that would\nmake him forget all his past--his plans and wishes--and he would love\nthe first lady his eyes fell upon.\"\n\nHe looked again slyly at Gudrun, who blushed red, but wished within her\nheart that she could see this Siegfried.  Her wish was soon to be\ngratified, for just as Hagen finished speaking they heard the sound of a\nhorn, out on the river, blown in challenge.\n\n\"Who dares challenge Gunther in his own castle?\" exclaimed the King\nstarting up.\n\nHagen hurried to the battlements.\n\n\"I see a knight clad in glittering gold armour,\" he said.  \"He is in a\nboat alone; and by the boat swims a horse.  With your favour I will meet\nhim at the landing.\"  And Hagen seized sword and helmet and hastened\nout.\n\nKing Gunther followed him, his curiosity being aroused by the challenge\nand Hagen's description. Together in silence they awaited the coming of\nthe boat which made swift progress against the current, driven by\nSiegfried's muscular arms.  Soon it touched the bank, and the young man\nsprang out.  Drawing his sword he saluted the two and then placed\nhimself on guard.\n\n\"I am Siegfried,\" he said simply, \"and if any man gainsay my landing on\nthese shores, I am ready to meet him in honourable combat!\"\n\n\"Not so!\" said Gunther, stretching out his hand cordially.  \"If your\nname be Siegfried, then am I right glad to welcome you!  Much have I\nheard of your prowess, and more would I fain hear while you rest\nyourself at my board.  I am Gunther.\"\n\nSiegfried looked him frankly in the eye, then gripped his hand.  Hagen\nalso exchanged greetings with him and led Grani away to the stables.\nHagen was overjoyed at the turn affairs had taken.  With his swift\ncunning he lost no time in putting his own schemes into play; and before\nhe joined the King and his guest he found time to brew the drink of\nforgetfulness, about which he had told the King only a few minutes\npreviously.\n\nReturning to the hall, Hagen found the King and his guest breaking bread\ntogether and chatting in a friendly way.  Gunther with true hospitality\nhad thrown open his home and realm to the hero.  Siegfried on his part\noffered to serve the King with his sword and steed when any need should\narise.\n\n\"But how did you know of me, or even that I am Siegfried?\" he asked\nbluntly.\n\n\"We have already heard great things of your prowess,\" replied Hagen\njoining in the talk; \"and the magic helmet would betray you, else.\"\n\n\"The magic helmet?\" repeated the young man.\n\n\"Yes, the cap of darkness you have at your belt. Have you never tried\nits wonderful properties?  By its aid you can assume any shape you\nchoose.\"\n\nSiegfried had never heard of the helmet's power before. He did not\nattempt to conceal his surprise, but said nothing.\n\nJust then the beautiful Princess Gudrun entered the room.  She bore a\ngolden salver, upon which stood a goblet.  She had already beheld the\nhero secretly, and now willingly brought him the fatal cup of\nforgetfulness which Hagen had made.\n\n\"Welcome to the palace of King Gunther!\" she said with downcast eyes.\n\"Will my lord Siegfried drink a refreshing brew?\"\n\nSiegfried thanked her courteously and placed the goblet to his lips.\nBut though he bowed to her and the King, the toast which he whispered to\nhimself was, \"To the health of my Brunhilde!  May her memory never grow\ndim!\"\n\nBut alas! no sooner had he swallowed the potion than all his past life\nwas blotted out!  He seemed like one awakened from a heavy slumber, for\nhe rubbed his eyes and glanced wildly about him.\n\n\"Where am I?\" he asked, leaning upon a chair for support.  \"What has\nhappened?\"\n\nThen his glance fell upon Gudrun who stood silent and ashamed of what\nshe had done.  As he looked, a flame of love was kindled in his heart\nfor her, by the power of the magic draught.\n\n\"Who is this fair creature?\" he asked, turning to the King.  \"Is she\nyour wife?\"\n\n\"She is my sister,\" answered Gunther.  \"I have no wife.\"\n\n\"It is not well for man to live alone; and all the more if he be king.\"\n\n\"That is what my brother Hagen has told me.  But the one woman I could\nwish to win, methinks, is not attainable.\"\n\n\"How so?\" asked Siegfried.\n\n\"She is hedged about by a barrier of fire.\"\n\n\"A barrier of fire?\" said Siegfried, slowly, and rubbing his eyes again.\n\"A barrier of fire?\"\n\n\"She can only be reached by one who is brave enough to force his way\nthrough the flame,\" continued Gunther; \"by one who knows no fear.\"\n\n\"One who knows no fear?\" again repeated Siegfried. \"I knew such a man\nonce.\"  But he shook his head sadly and gave up trying to think.\n\n\"Yes,\" added the King, \"he who knows no fear can alone win Brunhilde for\nhis bride.\"\n\nSiegfried made no immediate reply.  The potion had done its full work,\nand he had utterly forgotten Brunhilde. Presently he said,\n\n\"I know not the maid of whom you speak.  But methinks she could not be\nas fair as your sweet sister.\"\n\nGudrun ran hastily from the room at this.\n\n\"I would be willing to go far to win _her_ favour,\" he continued with\nthe frankness of youth.\n\n\"Would you be willing to aid King Gunther's wooing?\" asked Hagen.\n\n\"Right gladly,\" answered Siegfried.  \"But how?\"\n\n\"Your magic helmet would give you his appearance,\" replied Hagen; \"that\nis, if you would dare face the barrier of fire.\"\n\nSiegfried's eyes flashed.  \"_Dare_?  I dare anything, if only King\nGunther and his fair sister give me their regard!\"\n\nThe King sprang to his feet quickly.\n\n\"Spoken like a man and a brother!\" he exclaimed. \"Upon my soul, I love\nyou!  And if you will obtain Brunhilde for me, I shall undertake to win\nGudrun for you.\"\n\n\"Done!\" said Siegfried, grasping his hand.  \"I shall go with you when\nyou wish.\"\n\nThen the King ordered wine to be poured.\n\n\"Come, drink a pledge with me!\" he said.  \"From this day we are\nbrothers.  And on the morrow we will set forth.\"\n\nTogether they drank the pledge and vowed vows of eternal friendship.\n\n\nMeanwhile Brunhilde had grown very lonely.  Although she had urged\nSiegfried to go out into the world and win greater fame, her heart still\ncried for him, and she wondered, as the days crept by, when he would\nreturn.  She no longer thought of Walhalla, or the War Maidens.  Her\nwhole thought was of Siegfried the fearless.\n\nOne day as she sat and brooded, she heard the long-silent cry of the War\nMaidens, \"Hoyo-to-ho!\" and looked up in astonishment to see one of her\nsisters come flying on her steed through the clouds.  The next instant\nthe two maidens were sobbing upon each other's necks in the joy of\nreunion.\n\n\"How came you to brave Wotan's displeasure?\" exclaimed Brunhilde.  \"Do\nyou not know that I am cut off from you, and that you incur a great\ndanger in coming thus to me?\"\n\n\"Wotan no longer cares,\" answered her sister. \"Since his Spear of\nAuthority was broken he sits in Walhalla with moody brow.  And, O my\nsister! that is why I have come to you!  I heard him say that if you but\ngave up the Ring to the Rhine-maidens, of your own accord, the curse\nwould be removed, and the home of the gods saved.\"\n\n\"But I cannot give it up!\" exclaimed Brunhilde, wildly pressing the Ring\nto her heart.  \"It is my betrothal ring from Siegfried, and I have\npromised to guard it always!\"\n\n\"That is the only way Walhalla can be saved!  Surely you can do that\nlittle thing!\" her sister entreated.\n\n\"What care I for Walhalla?\" said Brunhilde, stormily. \"I have so long\nbeen denied its halls that I have ceased to care.  The love of Siegfried\nis the dearest thing I have in the world.  Wotan cannot take that away\nfrom me. Go back and tell him so!\"\n\n\"Then woe must come upon us all!\" cried her sister; and seeing further\nentreaty was useless, she sprang hastily upon her steed and rode away.\n\nBrunhilde made no effort to stay her, but fell again into brooding\nsilence.  Presently, however, she heard the sound of a horn and sprang\neagerly to her feet.  It was Siegfried's horn and he was returning!  She\nrushed to the edge of the rock.  The flames which had been burning\nfiercely parted to right and left, as once before, and the form of a man\nappeared.  It was indeed Siegfried, but she did not recognise him.  He\nhad put the magic helmet upon his head and taken the form of Gunther.\nWith Gunther's voice he also spoke to her.\n\nIn a tremble she asked, \"Who has dared come where only the fearless hero\nfinds a way?\"\n\n\"I am Gunther the King,\" he answered, \"and have come to claim you as my\nbride.\"\n\n\"That cannot be,\" she answered.  \"I am Siegfried's promised wife.\"\n\n\"Siegfried?  You are mad!  He is promised to another.  Come with me.\"\n\n\"Away!  It is not true!\" she cried.  \"This is his Ring, and in its name\nI tell you to begone!\"\n\nShe waved it threateningly, but he stepped forward.\n\n\"If that is his Ring, I must take it,\" he said.  And before she could\navoid him he seized her hand and removed the golden hoop from her\nfinger.\n\n\"Come with me!\" he commanded.  \"In the name of this bauble, I tell you\nto obey.\"\n\nHe had said the words in imitation of her manner, and not at all\nexpecting her to yield so easily, for the power of the Ring also had\ngone from his memory. But what was his amazement to see her come forward\nmeekly and prepare to go with him.  Only as she left the rock, she\nturned her eyes toward the sky, and moaned.\n\n\"Ah, Wotan!  I see thy hand in this!  Forgive me for having defied\nthee!\"\n\nSiegfried could make nothing of this outcry; but delighted that he\nshould succeed in his wooing for Gunther so easily, he led her down the\nmountain-side and bade her rest a moment by a fountain.  She did so,\nwhen he went swiftly around a rock and disappeared. The real Gunther who\nhad awaited him there now came forward in his stead with horses and bade\nBrunhilde mount.  She sadly obeyed and rode with him toward his castle,\nwhile Siegfried dashed swiftly ahead to greet Gudrun and await their\ncoming.\n\nHagen, meanwhile, had not been idle at the palace. He had seen Alberich\nand they had plotted together as to the best means to seize the Ring, no\nmatter who should return wearing it.  Hagen had also talked with Gudrun\nand easily persuaded her to accept Siegfried without delay upon his\nreturn.\n\nSiegfried, therefore, found a pleasing welcome when he presently\narrived; and he had exchanged vows with the Princess before the horns\nannounced that the King was returning with his bride.\n\nSiegfried and Gudrun with Hagen met the royal party at the landing.\n\n\"Welcome home, brother!\" said Siegfried.  \"I am overjoyed to see that\nyou have been as successful in your suit as I have been in mine.\"\n\nGudrun also had kissed her brother.  Brunhilde, however, at sight of\nSiegfried started back.\n\n\"Siegfried!  You here?  Is it true then that you are plighted to\nanother?\"\n\n\"I am plighted to Gudrun,\" he answered calmly.\n\nBrunhilde felt a deathly faintness come over her and came near falling\nto the ground.  Siegfried sprang forward and supported her.\n\n\"Ah, Siegfried beloved! do you not remember me?\" she asked faintly.\n\nThe voice stirred strange chords within him, but he did not understand\nthem.  He quietly seated her, then turning, said, \"Gunther, your bride\nis ill.\"  And as the King approached, he added to her, \"You have been\nfaint.  See, here comes your husband.\"\n\nAs he pointed to the King, Brunhilde saw the fatal Ring gleaming upon\nSiegfried's finger.\n\n\"Ha! the Ring!\" she cried.  \"Siegfried's Ring! My Ring!  Where got you\nit, if you are not my hero himself?\"\n\n\"She is excited and overcome by her journey,\" said Siegfried to the\nothers.  Then as if talking to himself he went on, \"This Ring?  Where\ndid I get it, I wonder? It seems to me that some time, somewhere--I\nforget just where--I fought a dragon and wrested the Ring from him.\"\n\nSiegfried knitted his brow and strove to recall the past.  Hagen stepped\nquickly forward.\n\n\"This excitement is proving too much for both our brides and\nbridegrooms,\" he said gaily.  \"Come, let us within where a feast is\nspread in honour of the great day.\"\n\nThe King was swift to see his suggestion.\n\n\"Yes, order the trumpets to blow!\" he ordered. \"We will rest from our\njourney and have public feastings.\"\n\nThe party entered the castle, Brunhilde with the rest. She had looked\nonce again beseechingly at Siegfried, but all his attention was bestowed\nupon Gudrun.  At last the proud spirit of Brunhilde flashed up at what\nshe deemed an insult.  She, a daughter of the gods, to be wooed and then\nforsaken!  She vowed revenge upon Siegfried for his rudeness.\n\nHowever, she gave no sign of all this.  She joined the feast, and sat\nsmilingly at Gunther's side.  She became his wife, while still her heart\ncried out for her hero, and cried in no less measure for revenge!\n\nHagen alone knew of the struggle that was going on in Brunhilde's mind.\nHe watched anxiously her every action; and now that he saw her smile and\naccept King Gunther before them all, he rubbed his hands in glee, under\nthe banquet board.  He saw that his evil schemes were succeeding just as\nhe had planned.\n\nAnd so, after the feast was ended, while all was laughter and music\nwithin the hall, Hagen came up and talked to Brunhilde.  At first it was\nonly idle talk and hidden flattery; then he touched upon Siegfried.\n\n\"Speak not to me of him,\" said Brunhilde coldly.\n\n\"Why not?\" asked Hagen in feigned surprise.  \"He is said to be the\nbravest hero in the world.\"\n\n\"He may be brave, but I care not to talk of him.  He is the falsest man\nalive.\"\n\nSome rash impulse made her say these words, and she regretted them as\nsoon as spoken.  But Hagen was quick to follow them up.\n\n\"You amaze and alarm me!\" he said.  \"I had supposed him to be\nhonourable.  If he is false he is a menace to our kingdom, and I for one\nwould wish that he were out of it.\"\n\n\"It would indeed be better if he were gone,\" said Brunhilde, her pride\nstill making her utter rash things.\n\n\"I am glad you have advised me of his true character,\" said Hagen\ncraftily.  \"The King purposes to give a hunting party to-morrow.  Now if\nSiegfried should not return from it, do you think it would be better\nso?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Brunhilde indifferently, and turned to speak to the King.\n\nBut if she gave no more thought to these fateful words, Hagen fairly\nhugged them in his heart.  He saw in them a licence to do evil to\nSiegfried.\n\nThe next day, as he had said, the King gave a hunting party in honour of\nthe two brides.  All were to meet at noonday for a repast in a grove,\nbut were at liberty to follow, that morning, wherever the chase might\nlead.\n\nSiegfried's horse Grani soon outdistanced all the others and led him\ninto a deep wood.  There he started a bear, but after pursuing it for\nsome time it disappeared, and Siegfried found himself upon a wild part\nof the banks of the Rhine.  Being thirsty and weary he dismounted, drank\nat the river's brink and threw himself down upon a mossy knoll.\n\nJust then he heard the sound of singing--a melodious but unearthly\nstrain ending almost in a wail.  Looking around, he saw three river\nnymphs rise out of the water and swim toward him.  They were the\nRhine-maidens, but Siegfried had never seen them before.  However, he\nwas undaunted at the vision, and sought to make a jest at their expense.\n\n\"Hail, fair maidens!\" he exclaimed.  \"Some elf has led me astray, so I\ndesire your aid.  This elf was in the shape of a bear, and if he was not\na friend of yours, I wish you would help me find him.\"\n\n\"What will you give us if we help you?\" they asked.\n\n\"I have nothing to give until I catch him,\" replied Siegfried laughing.\n\"What do you desire?\"\n\nOne of the maidens swam to him with outstretched hand.\n\n\"A golden Ring enwraps your finger,\" she said. \"Give us the Ring and we\nwill help you find the bear.\"\n\n\"I think I slew a huge dragon to win this Ring,\" replied Siegfried\nlightly.  \"That would be a sorry trade for me to barter it for a bear.\"\n\n\"You are selfish,\" the maidens sang teasingly.  \"Be wise and give us the\nRing!\"\n\nThey dived in and out of the water and Siegfried laughed to watch them,\nsecretly resolving to throw them the Ring before he left them, for it\nhad no present value in his eyes.  But soon the three maidens swam close\nto the shore and lifted up their arms warningly.\n\n\"Beware, Siegfried!\" they exclaimed.  \"The Ring has a curse upon it!\nBetter give it to us!\"\n\n\"A curse?\" he asked.  \"That makes it interesting! I must hear about this\ncurse.\"\n\nThen the Rhine-maidens sang,\n\n    \"Siegfried!  Siegfried!  Siegfried!\n    Sorrow dire we foresee:\n    If thou wardest the Ring,\n    A curse it will be.\n    From the Gold of the Rhine\n    It was craftily wrought,\n    Then cursed by the dwarf\n    When its magic he sought.\n\n    Whoever shall own it\n    Is fated to fall;\n    The dragon thou slewest\n    Was but one among all.\n    To-day _thou_ art stricken--\n    Thy doom we divine--\n    Unless thou returnest\n    The Ring to the Rhine!\"\n\n\nSiegfried heard the song through, then placed the Ring tightly on his\nfinger.\n\n\"Ah, ye are trying to frighten me into giving up the trinket!\" he said.\n\"But ye have sung your song to the wrong ears.  I know not what fear is\nand have been hunting it all my life.\"\n\n\"Beware, Siegfried!\" the maidens cried entreatingly, sinking once more\ninto the water's depths.\n\n\"Farewell!\" he called after them laughingly.  \"I must hasten to join the\nhunt.\"\n\nThe sound of a far-away horn was now heard, and he answered it with his\nbugle, then hastily mounted Grani and rode away.  Thanks to his swift\nsteed he soon reached the spot agreed upon for the noontide repast. He\ngreeted the two ladies, the King, Hagen and the retainers, and seated\nhimself between Hagen and Gudrun. Brunhilde sat directly opposite, by\nthe King's side.\n\nAs Siegfried had brought no game to the feast, it was jestingly decreed\nthat he should entertain the company by telling some of his past\nadventures.  Hagen passed goblets of wine to each one present, and took\nthe opportunity to pour into Siegfried's cup a few drops of a potion\nwhich caused him to remember again some of his past.\n\nSo Siegfried began to tell of his early life in the forest with Mime; of\nhow he harnessed the bear to frighten the dwarf; of his Sword of Need\nand the fight with the dragon.\n\nThe company applauded his story and begged him to go on.  He gladly did\nso, for it now seemed new and strange to him also; or as if it had been\na dream.  Hagen poured more of the potion into his goblet.\n\n\"After I slew the dragon,\" continued Siegfried, \"a strange thing\nhappened.  I chanced to get a drop of its blood upon my tongue, when I\nheard a bird singing to me and I understood all it said.  It told me of\nthis magic Ring I have on my finger and of the Rhine-Gold in a cave.  It\nalso told me of a maiden on a mountain height surrounded by a barrier of\nfire.  Her name was--Brunhilde!\"\n\nHe sprang to his feet, rubbed his eyes, and looked across the table.\n\n\"Her name was Brunhilde!\" he exclaimed again; and then he stretched out\nhis arms.\n\n\"Brunhilde, it was _you_, oh, my beloved!  Where have you been so long?\"\n\nBrunhilde rose hastily as if to reply; but before she could utter a word\nSiegfried fell backward.  Hagen had struck him treacherously from behind\nwith his spear.\n\n\"What have you done?\" shouted the King, while Gudrun leaned her head\nswooningly upon her knees.\n\n\"I have slain a traitor!\" boldly replied Hagen. \"Did you not hear him\nadmit that he had sought Brunhilde before he was wed with the Princess\nGudrun? And Brunhilde herself ordered his death.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" shrieked Brunhilde, rushing to her dying hero's side.  \"Ah,\nbeloved, I see it all now!  The curse of the Ring was upon us and you\nknew not what you did!\"\n\nShe lifted his head upon her lap and tried to pour wine down his throat.\nHis eyes, which were already fast glazing, opened again at the touch of\nher hand.\n\n\"Brunhilde!\" he whispered.  \"Where have you been?  I--have--sought\nyou----\"\n\n\"Siegfried!  Siegfried! forgive me!  It has all been a cruel mistake!\nDo not die!  Ah, beloved, look at me with your dear eyes again!  Your\nkiss awakened me from a slumber of years.  See, I kiss you and love you.\nWhy do you not awaken as I did?  Do not go away and leave me again!  I\nshall not let you go!\"\n\nShe pressed her lips wildly upon his, and the kiss stayed his soul yet a\nmoment more.\n\n\"Brunhilde--mother--we will--not--part----\"\n\nThe hero who knew no fear had ended his brief earth battle.\n\n\nBrunhilde wept bitterly in the first outburst of grief. Then summoning\nall her pride and resolution, she rose and confronted Hagen.\n\n\"This is your evil deed!\" she said.  \"You shall not fasten thoughtless\nwords of mine upon it.  There has been conspiracy here, and I fear that\nye all are in it.\"\n\n\"There has indeed been conspiracy,\" the King answered sadly; \"but Hagen\nalone is the doer of this deed, and for it he shall answer.  Our\nconspiracy lay only in giving Siegfried a drink of forgetfulness.  We\ndid not know he had become plighted to you; and he himself was made to\nforget it by the potion.  He served us in all innocence.\"\n\nBrunhilde looked at Hagen, Gunther, and Gudrun scornfully; then turned\nto the retainers.\n\n\"Take up the body of Siegfried,\" she commanded, \"and bear it to the\nriver's brink.  There we will burn it upon a funeral pyre, and there\nwill I consign this Ring of the curse back to the Rhine-maidens.\"\n\nThey placed Siegfried upon his shield and laid the Sword of Need across\nhis breast.  Then they bore him as she had commanded to the bank of the\nriver.  At sunset a great funeral pyre had been erected, and the body\nwas laid upon it.  A torch was applied and as the heap burst into flame,\nBrunhilde called her steed Grani and mounted him.\n\n\"Hoyo-to-ho!\" she cried, giving for the last time the call of the War\nMaidens.  \"Siegfried, beloved, I come to thee!\"\n\nAnd straight into the fire she rode, and the flames leaping high hid her\nand her steed from view.  But out of the midst of the pyre her voice\ncalled to the Rhine-maidens.\n\n[Illustration: \"And straight into the Fire she rode\"\nJ. Wagrez]\n\n\"Behold the Ring; the Ring of the curse!  Come, seize it, and may gods\nand men be relieved of its ban!\"\n\nAt her cry a wondrous thing was seen by the watchers round about the\npyre.  A great wave rose out of the bed of the river, and on its crest\nthe three Rhine-maidens appeared.  Up over the bank rushed the wave,\nquenching the fire as it came and sweeping all before it into the\nwater's depths.\n\nSuddenly Hagen gave a fearful cry.  He beheld the Ring again being swept\nfrom beyond his grasp, and he plunged into the current and attempted to\ntake it from one of the maidens who held it exultingly aloft.  But the\nother two twined their arms about him and dragged him down with them.\nWhen the wave had subsided he was no longer to be seen; nor was there\nany vestige of the funeral pyre or Brunhilde.  The curse of the Ring was\nwiped away.\n\nJust then a reddish glow was seen in the sky.  Swiftly it grew and\nspread like the light of many auroras.  In speechless amazement the\nonlookers beheld this awe-inspiring sight.  The doom of the gods had\ncome with the recovery of the Ring.  Walhalla was being destroyed.\nWotan's kingdom was at an end.  Henceforth the world was to press\nforward to new and better things.\n\n\n\n\n                          *Parsifal the Pure*\n\n                              (_Parsifal_)\n\n\n\"Galahad, as Tennyson portrays him, will always hold the first place\nwith English readers as the ideal Knight of the Holy Grail.  The\nmatchless diction of Tennyson has given the less perfect form of the\nlegend a supreme charm and beauty.  But Wolfram von Eschenbach's\n_Persifal_, as spiritualised and humanised in Wagner's lyric drama, will\nbe seen to be in fuller accord with the whole cycle and development of\nthe Grail legends, and at the same time gives the nobler story.\"--OLIVER\nHUCKEL.\n\n\nYou have just read of the downfall of the gods through broken promises,\nand of a great hero of those early days who fell a victim to fate.  And\nnow you may like to hear of another hero who was even greater, for he\nwas superior to every enemy and every temptation to the end.  The old\norder of things had long since passed away.  The gods were indeed dead,\nand men believed instead in one true God and in His beloved Son.  A\nbeautiful legend had grown out of the last days of the Christ upon\nearth; and this legend is the golden thread upon which is hung our\npresent story.\n\nYou remember that in the Bible account of the Last Supper, Christ took a\ncup and blessed the wine in it and gave it to His disciples to drink.\nThe legend goes on to relate that Joseph of Arimathea, the man who\nprovided a tomb for Christ, obtained the blessed cup of the sacrament,\nand that at the crucifixion he caught in it a few drops of blood from\nChrist's bleeding side.\n\nHenceforth the Cup possessed the magical power of healing all wounds and\nsicknesses.  It brought perfect peace to its possessor; and the mere\nsight of it was esteemed the greatest privilege on earth.  But it was\nrarely seen of men.  Spirited away by divine power, the Holy Grail--as\nit was called--was shown only on rare occasions and to the noblest and\nmost self-sacrificing among its seekers.  And so its quest came to be\nthe highest task a man could set himself, for it meant the conquering of\nhis own baser nature first of all, and the putting aside of every\nselfish interest.\n\nYou may have read the fine old story of the quest of King Arthur's\nKnights of the Round Table for this Holy Grail, and how it made them all\nnobler and better, although the inspiring vision was granted only to two\nor three.  At that time it had no fixed place, and men did not know\nwhere or how to seek it.  So it is no wonder that so few ever succeeded\nin the quest.\n\nFinally in another land a brave knight, Titurel by name, decided to\ndevote his whole life to seeking the sacred Cup.  Taking with him his\nson, and a small but chosen body of knights, he set forth trusting to\nthe mercy of Heaven to favour his search.  Many days he led his little\nband across deserts, through valleys, and over stony mountain-sides.\nAnd as they went they aided every person who crossed their path; they\nforsook all worldly pride; and they spoke only in kindness and humility\nof spirit.  Night and morning, also, they prayed that they might be led\nto the Holy Grail.\n\nOn and on they went, dusty and travel-worn and weary, but with the same\nbrave hearts.  Late one evening they stopped for the night in the\nshelter of a dense forest.  They had travelled all day and had eaten\nlittle, but after resting a brief while something seemed to urge them\nforward.\n\n\"Rise, my brave knights,\" said Titurel standing stiffly upon his feet.\n\"Rise, and let us go still farther into this wood.  I feel that it is\nthe divine will.\"\n\nWithout murmuring they once more resumed their march, and, wonderful to\nrelate, the farther they went the less tired they grew.  A strange\nfeeling of rest and content came over them until in a great wave of joy\nthey all fell upon their knees and gave thanks.  They felt that at last\nthey were nearing the Holy Grail!\n\nAs they knelt a great light, like noonday, shone round about them, and a\nvoice said,\n\n\"Arise, ye blessed among mankind!  For your labours are rewarded and it\nis given to you to guard the Holy Grail.  Near unto you is a mountain\nwhich shall be called Mount Salvat, and thereupon must ye build a\ntemple.  And ye shall be called the Knights of the Holy Grail.\"\n\nThe voice ceased.  The knights fell upon their faces in prayer and\nthanksgiving.  When they arose the light had disappeared, but in each\nface was reflected a lofty purpose born of its glory.\n\nThe next morning they went their way to Mount Salvat and there built the\ntemple.  High were its walls, with lofty arches and beautiful windows,\nand its fame as the most imposing temple in all the world soon went\nabroad.  And when it was finished and they held the solemn service of\ndedication, a light came and glowed steadily in the crypt.  While all\nthe knights fell upon their knees, Titurel drew near and lifted a veil.\nThere in all its beauty shone the Holy Grail!\n\nThen Titurel and the knights were filled with great joy, and they vowed\neternal service to the sacred charge. They became, indeed, a sort of\npriesthood and forsook all other aims or desires.  Daily they worshipped\nin the temple, and were fed from the holy altar.  And if any among them\nbecame wounded or ill, the mystic fire which glowed about the Cup\nspeedily restored them to health.\n\nFor many years they kept their charge with zealous faith.  Titurel their\nhead became an old man, and Amfortas his son was appointed chief\nguardian of the Grail in his stead.\n\nMeanwhile, as you may suppose, many other knights were desirous of being\nadmitted into the temple; but none save those who led pure and sincere\nlives were ever accepted.  Among those who were rejected because they\nwere unworthy was a powerful magician named Klingsor. When he failed to\nwin entrance in the usual way he tried to bribe the keepers of the gates\nand to make use of other base methods, but without success.\n\nIn his rage, Klingsor swore vengeance and devoted all his wicked arts to\noverthrowing the Temple of the Grail.  He made a beautiful garden on the\nother side of the mountain, which he filled with flowers, fruits, music\nand dancing girls.  By this means he deluded many knights who had come\nfrom afar earnestly seeking the Holy Grail, so that, almost at the goal,\nthey forgot their quest and tarried idly in the gardens.\n\nHearing of Klingsor's wicked arts, Amfortas was filled with righteous\nanger.  He determined to go forth and strike down the magician with the\nsacred Spear, which was his high badge of office.  This Spear was second\nonly to the Grail itself in value.  It was the same that had pierced the\nSaviour's side while He was on the cross. It gave to its bearer the\npower of overcoming all his enemies, so long as he was true to the\nfaith.  But Amfortas though zealous was too confident of his own\nstrength.  Going over the mountain hastily in search of Klingsor, he\ngrew tired and thirsty; so when he came to a shady grove of fruit-trees\nby a splashing fountain, he did not recognise this as one of the wiles\nof the magician, but ate and drank, then threw himself down on the cool\ngrass and fell asleep.  The Spear was loosened from his grasp, in his\nslumber, and he was only awakened by a keen, smarting pain in his side.\nHe found that he had been wounded; and as he sprang to his feet he\nconfronted Klingsor who was waving aloft the Spear in triumph.\n\n\"Go back to your temple!\" sneered Klingsor; \"and bid the next man be not\nweary so soon!\"\n\nIn shame and sorrow Amfortas departed, knowing that he had sinned and\ncould do nothing against the Spear now in the hands of the enemy.\nEarnestly he did penance in the temple and confessed his fault, but the\nwound in his side never healed.  It gave him daily torment, and the\nsight of the Grail which had once brought healing seemed only to\nincrease the pain.\n\nIt had been Amfortas' duty to uncover the Grail each day at sacrament,\nbut so dire was his suffering that he came to do it less and less\nfrequently.  The knights were very sorrowful because of these things,\nand they sent far and wide for healing balsams, but all remedies were\npowerless.  Long did Amfortas kneel before the altar praying in his\npain, and seeking for a word of hope from above.  At length one day an\nadded radiance glowed about the Grail, and he heard a voice saying,\n\n    \"By pity enlightened,\n    My guileless one,--\n    Wait thou for him\n    Till my will is done!\"\n\n\nAmfortas could not understand these words, but somehow his heart was\nlightened, and he thanked God that one day, be it near or far, he should\nfind relief.  The other Knights of the Grail also heard with joy of the\nstrange message, for they did not doubt that it meant healing and peace.\n\nFor many days they waited patiently and prayerfully without receiving\nany further sign.  Amfortas strove to sustain his courage, but it was a\nbitter test.  Daily he tried the baths and also the balms which his\nknights often went to much peril to obtain for him; yet the wound still\nshowed no signs of healing, and deep gloom settled down over the temple.\n\n\nOne day while the aged keeper of the gate was sitting, as was his wont,\nwith his face toward the little lake which nestled in the valley, his\neye was attracted by a wild swan which soared peacefully above the lake.\nSuddenly it turned sidewise with a wild flutter of pinions and began to\nfall toward the water.  The keeper saw that it was wounded by an arrow,\nand he hastened down to the lake to see who had done the deed; for it\nwas forbidden to harm any creature, great or small, within sight of the\ntemple.\n\nJust as he reached the bank, the swan fell at his feet and expired,\nwhile at the same moment a youth ran up to claim his prize.  He was\nclothed in motley animal skins, but he was strong and well knit, and\nwith that frank look about the eye which denotes both fearlessness and\ninnocence.\n\n\"Shame, shame upon you, boy, for shooting the swan!\" said the old man\nsternly.\n\n\"Why, what have I done?\" answered the youth. \"Do not men hunt birds and\nbeasts?  Methought it was a fine thing that I struck the bird so high.\"\n\n\"But you are now within holy ground, where 'tis sacrilege to harm any\ncreature.  And think what sorrow you have brought with your idle deed.\nThis beautiful bird will soar in the clouds no more.  It may have a\nmate, or perhaps little ones awaiting its coming.  They will never see\nit again.\"\n\nThe boy stood with downcast eyes and troubled face. \"Indeed, I never\nthought evil,\" he said.  And seized by a sudden impulse he broke his bow\nacross his knee and flung his arrows away.\n\n\"What is your name, boy?\" asked the knight.\n\n\"I am Parsifal,\" he answered simply.\n\n\"Whence come you?\"\n\n\"I do not know.\"\n\n\"Where go you?\"\n\n\"I go to become a knight,\" answered the boy.  \"I have always wanted to\nbe a knight.\"\n\n\"But do you not know that great things are expected of a knight?  They\nmust do other deeds than roaming about shooting harmless swans.\"\n\nThe boy flushed, but looked straight at the stern old man.  \"I know that\na man must be brave and true,\" he said; \"and that he must keep his heart\npure.  My father, who died long ago, was such a knight, and my mother\nhas always taught me to be like him.\"\n\n\"But you will have many strong trials before you can become a knight.\nYou may have to wander all over the world and endure many hardships.\"\n\n\"I am ready for them,\" answered the boy sturdily.\n\n\"Truly you are a guileless fellow,\" said the old keeper; \"but I like\nyour spirit.  Would you like to witness a service in the temple and hear\nthe choir-boys sing? Perchance you would like to be a choir-boy for\nawhile?\"\n\n\"Nay, but I came to be a knight.  Nathless I will hear the singing.\"\n\nThe boy said this so calmly, that the knight was half sorry he had given\nthe invitation; for chances to obtain entrance to the service were\nexceedingly rare.  However, the word had been spoken and he would abide\nby it.\n\nThey cast the dead swan into the lake and went together up the hill.\nService of the sacrament was just being begun in the temple as they\nentered its doors.  High up in the organ loft the rolling waves of music\npoured forth, filling every arch of the lofty building.  Then the sweet\nvoices of boys were heard chanting the refrain to which Amfortas had set\nmusic:\n\n    \"By pity enlightened,\n    My guileless one,--\n    Wait thou for him\n    Till my will is done!\"\n\n\nParsifal plucked the old knight's sleeve.  \"What do they mean by that?\"\nhe asked.\n\n\"Hush.  I do not know,\" replied the knight.\n\nParsifal thought it strange that they should sing words no one\nunderstood, but he kept silence and looked upon the solemn service with\nwide-open eyes.\n\nThe aged Titurel was present at the service.  His days were almost\nnumbered now, but he still had his couch conveyed into the presence of\nthe beloved Grail when he felt strong enough.  To-day he joined the\nother knights in urging his son Amfortas to uncover the Cup and serve\nthe sacrament.\n\n\"Let me have the sacrament from out the blessed Cup once more before I\ndie,\" said Titurel.\n\nAmfortas shook his head and groaned aloud.\n\n\"Not yet, my father!  I am unworthy to uncover the Grail!\"\n\nNevertheless the feeble Titurel urged the point, and all the knights\nknelt with solemn upturned faces, until at last Amfortas went and\nunveiled the Cup and poured wine therefrom, so that all might partake.\nThen he fell to the floor with a shudder of pain.  The old wound had\nbroken open afresh.  But Titurel and the other knights partook of the\nsacrament, while the choir-boys chanted responsively and the deep organ\npipes thrilled all the lofty arches.\n\nThe old keeper of the gate went forward and partook with the rest, while\nthe boy Parsifal stood spellbound behind a pillar and could make no\nmeaning of what he saw.\n\nAt last the keeper came and led him forth again to the open air, and\nthen the lad's tongue was loosed.\n\n\"I pray thee, why did the King fall to the floor as if in pain?\" he\nasked.\n\n\"The wound in his side pained him,\" answered the keeper.\n\n\"Why doesn't it heal?\"\n\n\"That is a long story.  But the wound was made by the sacred Spear, and\n'tis said that only the touch of that Spear again can make it well.\"\n\n\"Then why does he not go and lay hold of the Spear?\"\n\n\"It is in a powerful magician's hands.\"\n\n\"Can no one take it from him?\"\n\n\"No one has yet succeeded in the quest,\" answered the knight.  \"But,\nboy, how did you like the service of the Holy Grail?\"\n\n\"I could make nothing of it,\" said Parsifal, turning as if to go.\n\n\"Could make nothing of it!\" exclaimed the old knight.  \"Truly you would\nnot be much of a choir-boy. But where are you going?\"\n\n\"I go to seek the Spear that will heal the King,\" answered Parsifal.\n\nThe old knight let him go without further words.  He even shook his head\nin some impatience.\n\n\"Truly a guileless youth,\" he said to himself.  \"A little knocking about\nin the world will not hurt him. He is too foolish to do us any good\nhere.  And as to being a knight--pish!\"\n\nBut just then the closing words of the service came echoing through the\nwindows, and caused the old man to start.  He had heard again the mystic\nsong,\n\n    \"By pity enlightened\n    My guileless one!\"\n\n\nNow Klingsor the magician had cast a spell over a poor woman so that she\nwas obliged to obey him in all things.  Usually she was old and\nwrinkled, and passed for a witch in the countryside.  But when Klingsor\nwaved his wand over her she became the most beautiful maiden ever seen.\nKundry was her name, and she it was who had charge of the groves and\nflowers and music and dancing girls which had caused so many knights to\nturn aside before ever they reached the Temple of the Grail.  Kundry,\nindeed, had caused Amfortas himself to sin, on the day he lost the\nSacred Spear.\n\nBut when the spell was removed from poor Kundry she always bitterly\nrepented her misdeeds.  She had been very sorry for Amfortas, in her\nwild way, and had herself brought balsam from distant lands to heal his\nwound, but without avail.\n\nNo sooner was Parsifal on his way in search of the sacred Spear, than\nKlingsor was on the alert.  Once more he summoned Kundry and bade her\nprepare the same kind of a trap for Parsifal as had lured the knights\naside.  But Kundry hotly protested at this.  She had seen the youth and\ngreatly liked his open face and frankness. She rebelled against doing\nharm to one so harmless as he.\n\n\"Let him pass on his way,\" she pleaded.  \"He has done no evil and is too\nsimple to find you unaided, and even if he did, he could not take the\nSpear from you.\"\n\n\"Do as I bid you!\" replied the magician, angrily. \"It is precisely\nbecause he is pure and innocent that I fear him.  Such an one's coming\nhas long been foretold.\"\n\nSo Kundry had nothing to do but sadly obey.\n\nWhen Parsifal drew near, walking over the crest of the hill, the palace\nof Klingsor suddenly sank into the earth and vanished, leaving in its\nstead a lovely flower-garden.  Presently Parsifal stopped and listened,\nfor he heard strains of music.\n\n\"How sweet it sounds!\" he said; \"yet it seems to make the air heavy and\nuncomfortable.  I wonder where it comes from?\"\n\nLouder grew the music, and with it came the sound of girls' voices.\nJust then he came to the entrance of the garden, where he paused\nspellbound.  The flowers themselves were singing to him!  Each flower\nwas in the lovely tints of a rose, lily, pansy or carnation, and out of\nthe centre of each blossom peeped the bright eyes and laughing face of a\nbewitching maiden.\n\n\"Come!\" they sang to him; \"come and rest by the fountains!  Come, drink\nnectar, and let us sing to you while you rest in the shade!\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Parsifal, simply.  \"I like you all, and would gladly Listen\nto your song; but I cannot tarry, for I am on an urgent errand.\"\n\n\"Come!\" they pleaded; and the flowers seemed to weave in and out in a\nwonderful dance, nodding to him and beckoning him.  \"Come!  Only a\nlittle while! Then you will start forth rested and make better speed.\"\n\nParsifal shook his head.  \"I cannot enter,\" he said, and turned to go,\nwhen another voice softer than the rest called his name.\n\n\"Who called me?\" he asked, turning about.\n\n\"I called thee, lad,\" said the sweet voice.\n\nHe looked whence it came and saw a leafy bower opened wide, and in it\nsat a maiden fairer than ever heart could dream.  It was Kundry, the\nugly old witch, transformed by the power of the magician into this\nglorious vision.\n\n\"How did you know my name?\" he asked, bluntly.\n\n\"I knew thy mother, lad, and thy father, too. Wouldst hear of them?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" he cried eagerly.  \"Tell me of them!\"\n\n\"Then come within the bower and rest awhile.  Here thou canst listen to\nthe music and eat and drink and dance with these lovely flowers.\"\n\n\"Nay, but tell me now!  Why should I pause when I am not faint?  No good\ndeed was ever done by stopping on the way.\"\n\n\"Thou art a foolish youth,\" said the maiden.  \"Why art thou in so great\nhaste?\"\n\n\"I seek a magician,\" he answered, frankly; \"a magician who has stolen\nthe sacred Spear.\"\n\n\"Ah, I can tell thee of him!\" she cried--an evil light lurking in her\neyes.  \"Come, sit by my side, and I will tell not only of him but of thy\nfather and mother.\"\n\nParsifal turned at this, but entered the garden slowly. He knew no\nreason why he should not come in, and yet a great force seemed holding\nhim back.  \"But how can I go on my errand,\" he thought, \"unless I find\nthe way?\"\n\n\"I would hear about my mother first,\" he said, seating himself by the\nmaiden's side.  \"Is she well?\"\n\n\"She is well, but has mourned sadly since thou didst go away.  I saw her\nonly a few days ago, and she sent thee her love and a kiss.\"\n\nHere the witch leaned forward suddenly and printed a kiss upon his lips.\nIt was intended to enchant him, but for once it failed of its effect.\nParsifal sprang up as if stung by an asp.\n\n\"Amfortas!  O Amfortas!\" he cried.  \"I know it now!  The spear-wound in\nyour side!  Ah, the anguish of it has come upon me also!\"\n\n\"Thou art wrong,\" said the woman softly.  \"I have harmed thee not.  Only\nstay!\"\n\n\"Not another moment!\" exclaimed Parsifal.  \"Your garden is evil and\nbrings death to men's souls.\"\n\nHe turned to go, but the witch called aloud to the magician, for she\nknew her power was gone.  And as she called, Parsifal saw a dark,\ndreadful figure before him that blocked his way.\n\n\"Stay!\" commanded Klingsor waving the sacred Spear aloft.  \"Those who\nenter my garden cannot leave it so easily!\"\n\n\"Stand aside!\" cried Parsifal.  \"I have done no hurt, and I fear you\nnot!\"\n\n\"Thou wilt fear me when thou dost feel this spear-point!  'Tis the same\nthat undid Amfortas.\"\n\n\"Ha! say you so?  Then I have come to claim it in his name.\"\n\n\"Take it!\" shouted the magician angrily.  And he threw the weapon\nstraight at Parsifal with terrific force.\n\nBut miracle of miracles!  it stopped of itself midway, and floated\ngently round about Parsifal's head.  He grasped it reverently and made\nthe sign of the cross.\n\n\"In this sign, perish!\" he exclaimed.  \"Let all your wicked magic vanish\nfrom the face of the earth!\"\n\nAs he uttered these words a tremendous crash was heard, followed by an\nearthquake.  The garden, its flowers and music and running streams, were\nswallowed up in an instant, with all its inmates.  Parsifal alone\nremained on solid ground.\n\nHe looked about him, but could see only a trackless forest with close\nspreading trees that shut out the blue sky and the light of the sun.  He\ndid not know which way to turn, or where stood the Temple of the Grail.\nBut the sacred Spear was still in his hand, and its presence seemed to\nbring comfort.  He knelt and prayed for guidance, and as if in answer,\nthe words of the old knight came into his memory,\n\n\"You may have to wander all over the world and endure many hardships.\"\n\nThe young Parsifal wondered at this message.  It seemed to come in\nanswer to his prayer, and yet his spirit rose in questioning, \"Why\nshould I roam over the world when the King needs me so much, and his\nwound is not healed?\"\n\nBut no other answer came, and no path led out of the forest.  So he made\nno further questions but went his way, trusting to Heaven to guide him,\nand the sacred Spear to protect him.  When at last he reached the\nborders of the wood he found himself in a strange country.\n\nThus it was that Parsifal began his pilgrimage.  Long and hard it was,\nyet he did not falter or complain.  And always his hand was ready to\nhelp the poor or the suffering, while little children came to him gladly\nknowing they had found a friend.\n\nOften his path led over steep, rough mountains; again it lay in burning\nsands of the desert; and again it was close to treacherous quicksands or\nyawning pits.  But steadily he pressed forward, learning many things as\nhe went, but never parting from any of his early purity or courage.\n\nSlowly, also, the great truth of the Holy Grail dawned upon him.  He\nheard men speak of it with reverence and longing as the dearest treasure\nthe earth possessed. Then he realised how lightly he had thrown away his\nown privilege through ignorance and why the old knight at the gate had\nturned from him with impatience, as \"guileless.\"  With humility and\nprayer he resolved that he would always try to be worthy of this vision,\nin the hope that it would again come to him.  And in moments like this,\nwhen his whole soul was stirred with anguish, he seemed to hear an inner\nvoice saying,\n\n\"Courage!  The Holy Grail is not far away!\"\n\nThus years passed by, and at last Parsifal, for true and heroic service,\nwas made a knight.  Never was there a comelier.  Strong and straight and\ngraceful he stood, while his face was fair and pleasing and seemed\ncontinually to glow with an inner light.  His eye was the very mirror of\ntruth.  He was, indeed, the image of that ancient ideal, a knight\nwithout fear and without reproach; and always he sought the deed that\nwas most valorous and the duty that was most severe, hoping that his\nsteps might be directed again to the Temple of the Grail.\n\nOne night he heard the bleating of a lamb that had lost its way.\nParsifal was far from shelter, and the night was stormy, yet he did not\nhesitate.  He turned aside and sought in the darkness until he had found\nthe little wanderer, when he wrapped it in his cloak and carried it to\nits mother.  When he again sought his road he could not find it because\nof the storm.  He wandered on, and presently saw that he was in the\nmidst of a dense forest.  Somehow even in the night it seemed familiar\nto him, and his heart gave a great leap.  He felt that the Holy Grail\nwas close at hand!\n\nThen a flash of lightning disclosed to him a little cavern, hollowed out\nof a rock, and he entered it for shelter during the night, with\nthankfulness.\n\nThe next morning the sun shone bright and warm, gilding the wet leaves\nof the forest with radiance. Parsifal followed a shining beam of gold\nstraight through the forest--and there before his feet lay the lake\nwhere he had shot the swan so long ago.  On the hill near by stood the\nTemple of the Grail.\n\nParsifal stuck the Spear upright in the soil and knelt in prayer and\nrejoicing that his long pilgrimage was at an end; then rose and took his\nsteps toward the hill.\n\n\"I wonder if the old knight of the gates is still alive,\" he said to\nhimself; \"I should dearly like to see him again.\"\n\nNo sooner had he said this, than he saw an aged man tottering feebly\nalong, and lo! it was the keeper himself. By his side walked a woman\nwhom Parsifal seemed to remember, but could not quite.  It was Kundry\nthe former witch of the flower-garden.  After this garden was destroyed\nshe had been released from the magician's spell, and she was now\ncarrying water and doing other menial tasks around the temple in the\nhope of atoning for her past wickednesses.\n\n[Illustration: The Castle of the Holy Grail\nH. Thoma\nBy permission of F. Bruckmann, Munich]\n\nWhen the keeper saw the knight in splendid armour standing there\nmotionless, he greeted him courteously and said,\n\n\"Good-morrow, Sir Knight?  Do you come seeking the Temple of the Grail?\nThen know that you are even now on consecrated ground, where it is\nforbidden to come bearing arms or with helmet closed.\"\n\nFor answer Parsifal once more thrust his Spear into the earth, and\nlaying aside his helmet knelt with his face toward the temple.  Then the\nold knight remembered him.\n\n\"It is the youth of the swan!\" he exclaimed to Kundry.  \"And see what he\nhas brought back with him! The sacred Spear!  O happy day on which the\nSpear comes home!\"\n\nThen Parsifal rose to his feet, and seeing love and joy in the old man's\nface he opened his arms and the two embraced right gladly.\n\n\"All hail to thee, good friend!\" cried Parsifal. \"Long did I fear that I\nshould never see thy face again.\"\n\n\"Dost thou remember me?\" asked the keeper. \"Long years have passed and\nmuch grief has bent my back, since the day I let thee go forth as\nguileless and crack-brained.\"\n\n\"As indeed I was,\" answered Parsifal, \"but through failures and\nhardships and many trials the guileless one has been at last\nenlightened, even as they sang in that strange sweet song of the temple.\n\n\"But tell me,\" the young man continued, \"is there not something changed\nabout this holy place?  Oft have I heard about it in my wanderings.  Men\ntold me that Mount Salvat was the abode of delight; that here the birds\nsang, the knights went hither and thither with joy upon their faces, and\nthe very air was filled with the spring-time of gladness.  Is it not so;\nor is this only an idle dream?\"\n\n\"It _was_ so,\" answered the old man sadly, \"but dark days have come upon\nMount Salvat.  For pain of his wound, Amfortas has ceased entirely to\nserve the sacrament from the sacred Cup, and therefore are all the\nknights sad in their hearts.  They have betaken themselves to cells like\nmonks.  The aged Titurel has died because he could no longer behold the\nGrail; and I am only living on in penance waiting till I can join him.\"\n\n\"Nay, but all these things must not be!\" said Parsifal. \"Dost thou\nremember telling me, long ago, that the sacred Spear--this Spear!--would\nheal Amfortas of his wound?  I set forth to seek it that very day.\nCome, let us take it into his presence!\"\n\n\"Pray God the oracle may come true!\" exclaimed the keeper joyfully.\n\"And thou dost come at a good season, for it is the Good Friday service\nto-day, and Amfortas has promised to uncover the Holy Grail once again,\nbe the cost what it may.  But before we go up, thou must rest and be\ncleansed at this spring; and I will procure a white robe for thee.\"\n\nSo Parsifal laved his face and his hands at the spring, while the old\nman went in haste for the white robe.  And while he sat there, the woman\ncame up timidly and knelt down and unfastened his sandals and washed his\nfeet. Then Parsifal looked down and remembered her.\n\n\"Thou art Kundry,\" he said; \"thou hast come a long hard way, even as I\nhave come.\"  He sprinkled her brow with a few drops of water from the\nspring.  \"I baptise thee into a new life,\" he said; \"come with us this\nday to the temple.\"\n\nThe tears rained down glad Kundry's face; and as she knelt there, it was\ntransformed again into the loveliness of the maiden of the\nflower-garden, but purer, sweeter, and of a radiance not of earth.  She\nwas redeemed!\n\nJust then the soft chimes of the temple bells rang forth bidding them\ncome to the service.  The keeper returned with the garment which he put\nupon Parsifal and the three went up the path to the gates, Parsifal in\nthe centre, bearing the sacred Spear.\n\nThey had no sooner entered than the procession of knights filed by,\npreceded by the choir-boys who sang of the Holy Grail.  Last of all came\nAmfortas, slowly and as if in great pain.  He paused before the shrine\nand made as if to open it, while all the knights gathered about in\nreverent waiting.\n\nSuddenly he paused, clasped his hands to his side and cried out:\n\n\"No! no!  I cannot do it!  Death is so near me, only let me die! slay me\nwith your swords and choose another Guardian of the Grail!  I cannot\nbear to unveil the Holy Cup!  Kill me, kill me, I pray you!\"\n\nHis brow was wet with agony and he writhed with pain so that the knights\ndrew back from him in terror.\n\nJust then Parsifal drew near in his flowing white robe bearing the Spear\naloft.\n\n\"Peace, O Amfortas!\" he said quietly.  \"Only one weapon will ease thee\nof that pain: it is the one that caused it.\"\n\nAnd with the sacred Spear he touched the wound; and lo! it was healed in\nan instant, and Amfortas' agony was changed to rapture as he knelt\nbefore the altar.\n\n\"Thou art forgiven,\" Parsifal's voice went on; \"forgiven to continue in\nthy service of the Grail.  But nevermore shalt thou be its Guardian.\nThe words of the oracle have come true.\n\n    \"'By pity enlightened,\n    My guileless one,--\n    Wait thou for him\n    Till my will is done!'\"\n\n\nThen Parsifal went reverently to the shrine and uncovered it, while all\nthe knights fell on their knees and prayed, and the ransomed Kundry fell\nprostrate and bathed the altar steps with her happy tears.  He drew\nforth the Holy Grail and held it aloft, and instantly a ray of dazzling\nlight fell from above and struck within the Cup, so that it glowed with\nglory which flooded all the temple.  And down from the lofty dome\nfluttered a pure white dove which hovered lightly over his head. The\nknights saw and understood the sign; a new Guardian of the Grail was\ncome to them.  The temple had awakened to a higher service through the\nstainless life of Parsifal.\n\nLet us leave them there, in that holy service before Easter, while the\nmusic rose and swelled triumphant, telling of victory over sin and\ndeath!\n\n\n\n\n                      *Lohengrin the Swan Knight*\n\n                             (_Lohengrin_)\n\n\n\"Hear ye! hear ye!  The King has come to Antwerp!  Who fights upon the\nKing's side?\"\n\nThe silvery blast of a trumpet rang out, following the clear tones of a\nherald's voice; and in answer a great shout arose from a multitude of\nthroats, for all the people in this wide stretching plain were eager to\nfollow the standard of their warlike ruler.\n\nIt was in the days not long after Parsifal had come to the Temple of the\nGrail.  The kingdom of Germany, so long a prey to warring states, had\nfound a strong head in Henry the Fowler who protected the land from foes\nwithin and without.  In times of peace it was his custom to travel from\ncity to city holding court and listening to the grievance of everyone,\ngreat or small.  In war time, he levied troops and led them in person.\nHis visit to Antwerp, on this occasion, was for both purposes, as the\nHungarians had lately declared war against him and were threatening to\ninvade Germany.\n\nAntwerp was capital of the ancient dukedom of Brabant, and one of King\nHenry's chief cities.  On his coming, therefore, he was greatly troubled\nto find the state rent with quarrels and secret discontent.\n\nThe King held his court in the open air, under the spreading branches of\na stately tree, called the \"Oak of Justice,\" which stood on the bank of\nthe winding river Scheldt.  Here all the people gathered to pay him\nhomage, and here--on the bright spring morning when our story opens--he\ncaused the herald in brilliant livery to stand forth and blow upon a\ntrumpet.\n\n\"Hear ye!\" cried the herald again.  \"The King has come!  Who fights for\nthe King?\"\n\nThen all the people answered as with one voice, and came and knelt\nbefore the throne in token of allegiance.\n\nThe King's eye gladdened at the sight.  \"Verily,\" he said, \"with such\nstout arms and loving hearts as these, we will drive the enemy into the\nsea!\"\n\nAfter he had greeted many by name, and many others had been presented to\nhim, he saw one noble who had fought with him against the Danes.\n\n\"Come hither, Frederick of Telramund,\" he commanded. \"As an oft-tried\nfriend, I have a question to ask of you.  How is it that Brabant has no\nhead, but is rent with inner quarrels?\"\n\nFrederick of Telramund stepped forward and bowed low.  He was a tall\nman, with beetling brows and deep, piercing eyes.\n\n\"I am thankful, my King,\" he began in a heavy voice and with\nill-concealed excitement, \"that you have seen our troubles and will lend\near to the story of them.  I will tell you the truth.  The former Duke\nof Brabant was my friend, and when he died he chose me as guardian for\nhis children, Godfrey and Elsa.  I brought them up as carefully as\nthough they were my own, and looked forward fondly to the time when\nGodfrey should be duke; also--shall I confess it?--when I might win Elsa\nfor my wife.  But all these hopes were destined to fail.  Elsa was a\nproud girl, and I fear now that she coveted the dukedom for herself,\nthough she pretended to have great love for her brother.\n\n\"One day they went roaming in the woods and by the river's brink, as\nthey often did.  When night came, Elsa returned without her brother.\nShe was pale and trembling, and when we asked her where he had gone, she\nwould only reply by wringing her hands and sobbing. That is all the\nanswer we have got from her, from that day to this, and we cannot help\nfearing that she drowned him, or laid other violent hands upon him.\n\n\"Of course, after this happening, I could no longer choose her hand in\nmarriage.  But I chose instead a lady whom I now wish to present to\nyou--Ortrud, daughter of the brave King Radbod.  In former times he was\nking over all this land; and in my wife's name I lay claim to Brabant.\"\n\nAs he finished speaking, Frederick took his wife by the hand and led her\nforward.  She was a very handsome woman, though almost of masculine\ntype, and her eye had a watchful look like that of a crouching tigress.\nShe bent her head with the grace of a queen.\n\nThe King knitted his brow at the story, and looked about as though\nseeking someone else whom he might question.  Seeing his doubt,\nFrederick resolved upon a bold stroke.  Turning he addressed the people\nin a loud voice, saying,\n\n\"I accuse Elsa of Brabant of the murder of her brother. If there be any\nhere who can deny my charge, I challenge him to come forth!\"\n\nNo one moved, although there were mutterings here and there and sullen\nshakings of the head.\n\nThe King rose suddenly and hung his shield upon a limb of the tree.\n\n\"This is the Oak of Justice!\" he said, \"and I promise ye that I will not\ndepart from its shade this day, until I have made trial of this charge.\n\n    \"This shield no longer shall I wear\n    Till judgment is pronounced, I swear.\"\n\n\nAt a signal, the herald came forward again and announced, \"Now shall\nthis cause be tried as ancient law demands!\"  Then he blew a loud blast\nupon his trumpet and called upon Elsa of Brabant to come before her King\nfor judgment.\n\nThe people had received the announcement, that the King would try the\ncause, with breathless eagerness. Now they parted to right and left and\nlooked intently along the path Elsa was expected to come.  They were not\ndisappointed.  After a few moments a train of ladies appeared walking\nslowly, two by two, toward the Oak of Justice.  Among them was one\ndressed in pure white. Her head was uncovered, and her golden hair fell\nin soft curls about her shoulders.  Her blue eyes had a far-away look in\nthem, and her pale face was marked by lines that told of suffering.  The\nlady Ortrud looked balefully at her as she came forward, but the people\ndrew nearer to the maiden with marks of pity that showed their old love\nfor her.\n\nThe King himself was struck by this fair vision.  The set look came out\nof his eyes, and he leaned forward and gently took her by the hand.\n\n\"Are you Elsa of Brabant?\" he asked.\n\nThe young girl bowed and wrung her hands in silence.\n\n\"You are accused of the murder of your brother,\" continued the King.\n\"What have you to say?\"\n\n\"Oh, my poor brother!\" cried Elsa; and not another word would she answer\nto the charge.\n\n\"Speak!\" said the King.  \"Do you not know that I must adjudge you guilty\nunless you confide in me?\"\n\nElsa looked up at the King and seemed to gain courage. The people gazed\non the scene with stillness as of death. Elsa's voice was low but clear,\nand its tones were distinctly heard.\n\n\"When I have been in deep trouble,\" she said, \"I have prayed to Heaven\nfor help.  It has been many times of late--O, many, many times!  At last\nI was answered. I have had a dream, and it is such a beautiful dream\nthat I know it must come true.  A knight in glittering armour appeared\nin a vision and promised to be my champion whenever I should call upon\nhim.  O King, I claim him for my champion to-day!  _He_ will prove my\ninnocence!\"\n\nHer words answered nothing and proved nothing; yet such was her manner\nthat the people believed in her and shouted aloud that she was\nguiltless.  The King himself seemed to seek a pretext to let her go\nfree; but Frederick of Telramund stepped boldly forward.\n\n\"A likely story this, your Majesty!\" he sneered. \"Dream knights never\nyet have done anything; and if the Lady Elsa can but find her champion\nupon earth, here I stand ready to fight him to decide this cause.\"\n\nThe King looked at the maiden anxiously, and her face lit up at once.\n\n\"I agree to these terms,\" she said.\n\nUpon this the King gave orders that lists, or open spaces, should be\ncleared; and then he announced that, following ancient custom, they\nwould rest the issue of Elsa's guilt or innocence upon single combat\nbetween champions.  The herald once again came forward and blew a long\nblast upon his trumpet, and proclaimed,\n\n    \"Let him stand forth by Heaven's right\n    Who would for Elsa's just cause fight!\"\n\n\nThere was a painful silence, while Frederick and Ortrud looked in\nsmiling disdain upon the poor girl.\n\n\"O my King!\" she cried.  \"Summon him again! His home is far away and he\nmay not have heard.\"\n\n\"Sound once again!\" commanded the King, and again the trumpet call rang\nout.\n\nAgain there was intense silence.  Elsa dropped upon her knees and prayed\nuntil it seemed as though her very soul would burst with emotion.\nSuddenly a man nearest the bank of the river startled the silence with a\ncry,\n\n\"A swan! a swan!  And in its wake a boat bearing a knight!\"\n\nEvery eye turned and gazed up the winding stream, and there, sure\nenough, was a beautiful white bird swimming easily and gracefully along\nand drawing a little boat with a knight in it.\n\n\"A miracle! a miracle!\" shouted the people.\n\n[Illustration: \"The Swan drew the Boat to Shore\"\nG. Rochegrosse\nReproduction authorised by the publishers, A. Durand et Fils, Paris]\n\nAs he drew near, they saw that the knight was clad in silver armour\nwhich shone dazzling white in the sun. Amid a general hush, the swan\ndrew the boat to shore, and the knight stepped out.  Before greeting the\nKing or court, he dismissed the swan in a tender little song of\nfarewell!\n\n    \"I give thee thanks, my faithful swan,\n    Turn thee again and stem the tide;\n    Go back to that blest land of dawn\n    Where thou and I did once abide;\n    Full well thy loving task is done,\n    Farewell, farewell, beloved swan!\n    My faithful swan!\"\n\n\nThen while the swan bent its head in sad obedience and sailed away on\nthe current, the knight turned to the King.\n\n\"Hail, O King!\" he said courteously.  \"I have come in answer to your\nsummons to do battle in Elsa's cause.\"\n\n\"You are right welcome, noble knight, from wheresoever you come,\"\nanswered the King.  Then turning to Elsa, he continued, \"Do you accept\nthis knight to be your champion?\"\n\n\"'Tis the knight of my dream!\" she murmured, sinking at his feet.\n\nThe King struck his shield three times with his sword.\n\n\"Sound the call to combat!\" he commanded.\n\nThe call was given, and Frederick of Telramund took his place sullenly\nin the lists.  He liked not the turn affairs were taking, but his word\nwas given and could not be withdrawn.\n\nThe stranger knight lifted Elsa gently to her feet, then prepared to\nface his enemy.  Another stroke upon the King's shield, and the two\nantagonists had crossed blades with a sharp crash.\n\nBut not long did they fight.  Frederick was clearly outclassed from the\nfirst; and after a few wild, furious blows, which the other lightly\nparried, his sword was sent flying from his hand, and he was compelled\nto yield to the mercy of his conqueror.\n\nThe Knight of the Swan refused to take his life; but according to the\nlaw the defeated man was accounted a perjurer and doomed to exile.  With\ndowncast head he slunk away, followed by the proud Ortrud, who glared\nabout defiantly to the last.\n\nBut the victorious knight now heeded them not.  He had turned to where\nElsa stood, and held out his hands in the old gesture which every maiden\nmust one day understand.  With a glad cry she ran and nestled in his\narms.\n\n\"My hero!\" she whispered.\n\nThen the knight turned proudly toward the King, and said in the hearing\nof all,\n\n\"I would have the Lady Elsa as my wife.\"\n\n\"You have my consent with hers,\" replied King Henry, heartily.  \"And\nwith her hand goes the dukedom of Brabant.\"\n\nAt this all the people shouted and threw their caps high in the air; for\nthe new duke presented a handsome figure, while they had never liked the\nusurping Frederick.\n\n\"Only one promise must I exact from the fair Elsa,\" continued the\nchampion.  \"If she cannot give it, I must release her from her silent\npledge.\"\n\n\"What is that?\" asked the King.\n\n\"She must never ask me my name, or whence I come. That I am well born\nand worthy of her she can decide for herself.  But no question must be\nasked as to my past life.  Can you promise this, my Elsa?\"\n\nHe looked down anxiously at her, and she met his gaze frankly and\ntrustingly.\n\n\"I promise--my husband!\" she answered in low, sweet tones.\n\nThe Knight of the Swan kissed her upon the brow, while the King himself\ncame forward and took each by the hand.\n\n\"I shall take this maiden in my charge,\" said Henry the Fowler, \"and\nremain in Antwerp long enough to bestow her in marriage upon this man.\nCome, let us to the palace and prepare for the ringing of the joy\nbells!\"\n\nThen once again the people shouted with delight, and came crowding up to\nshare in the scene.  The King's shield was seized from the limb where it\nhung, and Elsa was placed upon it and borne forth in triumph, while the\nSwan Knight was likewise carried upon his own shield.\n\nTo have heard the noise and rejoicing you would have thought that there\nwas no one in all Brabant who did not share in the general happiness.\nBut there were two who found it gall and wormwood, and these two were\nFrederick and Ortrud.  Deprived of their wealth and power, and in danger\nof their lives, they suffered a just punishment for their wickedness.\nFrederick was for leaving Brabant at once, and seeking their fortunes in\nother countries.  But Ortrud, whose spirit remained unbroken, would not\nhear of this.  All along she had been his evil counsellor, and now she\nset going other schemes of mischief.\n\nThe two stole forth at nightfall, clothed in beggar's tattered garments,\nand made their way to the palace steps, where they listened to the\nsounds of rejoicing within the palace.\n\n\"Ah!  I should still be there, if I had not listened to you,\" groaned\nFrederick, who was a man of poor courage.\n\n\"Cease your complaining!\" answered Ortrud.  \"We will win the victory\nyet, and you shall be in power again, if you listen to me now.\"\n\n\"What can we do?\"\n\n\"Have you not heard of the promise made by Elsa to this Swan Knight?  He\nis a magician, I warrant you, and all we need do is to prove it.  She\nhas promised never to ask his name.  Now if we can get her to break that\npromise, he will vanish--mark my words!\"\n\nFrederick sat up and looked around eagerly.\n\n\"Ortrud, you are a genius!\" he said.  \"But how can we do this?  We are\nbeggared and exiled.\"\n\n\"Trust me--but hush!  I hear someone on the balcony!\"\n\nIt was Elsa herself, who came out for a moment to look at the stars and\ncommune with her own great happiness.  At sight of the girl's face in\nthe glow of the window, Ortrud crept softly round the balustrade and\nsuddenly appeared before her startled gaze.\n\n\"Pardon--pardon!\" cried the crafty woman in a low tone, and sinking on\nthe step at Elsa's feet.\n\n\"Who are you?\" demanded Elsa.\n\n\"I am an outcast.  Out of your great happiness pity my deep misery!\"\n\n\"It is Ortrud!\" exclaimed the girl, her heart made tender by her own\nlove.  \"Poor woman, I did not seek to harm you.  Your husband brought it\non himself.\"\n\n\"I had naught to say,\" coaxed the kneeling woman. \"And now you would not\nsend me forth from your door, to wander into the wide world a beggar!\"\n\n\"No!\" exclaimed the generous Elsa, \"I will shelter and protect you.\nCome with me!\"\n\nShe turned to order lights from two servants at the door; and Ortrud\nshot a quick glance of cunning triumph at her hidden husband, before\nentering the palace.\n\nAll that night Frederick lurked amid the shadows of the neighbouring\ncathedral and waited.  He knew that their wicked schemes were in safe\nhands, with Ortrud on the inside; and although only a few short hours\nremained he took heart of hope.\n\n\nThe wedding had been set for early the next morning, so that Henry the\nFowler could go to the wars.\n\nHardly had the sun struck the lowest range of windows on the building,\nbefore an army of servants appeared, as if by magic, and began\ndecorating walls, porticos, and pillars with streamers and flowers.\nWhen the sunlight had penetrated every corner of the court a herald came\nout and announced the approaching wedding.  The King's business demanded\nhaste and so there had been no delay.  The herald further announced that\nthe stranger knight would not accept the dukedom, but would be styled\nsimply the Protector of Brabant; and that he was to go with the King's\ntroops and lead the men into battle against the Hungarians.\n\nThe herald had scarcely ceased ere four pages appeared on the palace\nsteps crying, \"Make way for the Lady Elsa!\"\n\nAgain the ladies-in-waiting came forth, clad in white, and behind them\ncame Elsa looking very lovely in her bridal robes and attended by her\nfriends and some of the noblest ladies of the state.  Near her walked\nOrtrud whom Elsa wished to honour, and who was attired in rich and\ncostly robes.\n\nSlowly the wedding party filed across the palace courtyard to the\nwide-open doors of the great cathedral. The maids arrayed themselves on\neither side to let their mistress pass; but just as Elsa reached the\nportal, Ortrud suddenly rushed in front of her exclaiming,\n\n\"No! you shall not enter first!  I am higher born than you, and must\ntake the lead!\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" asked Elsa starting back.\n\n\"I mean that your nameless knight won his victory yesterday by fraud,\nand that I am still the rightful duchess of Brabant.\"\n\nElsa flushed red and answered her proudly, \"A fitting return is this for\nmy late kindness to you!  And as to the victory it was won fairly in\nsight of all the people. Stand aside, rash woman, and let me pass!\"\n\nOrtrud stood unmoved.  \"You would wed a pretty champion!\" she sneered.\n\"Why, you do not know his name!  And as for knowing his origin or\ncharacter--forsooth!\"  (Here she snapped her fingers.)  \"I tell you he\nis a magician, and won his fight with my husband by the powers of evil!\"\n\n\"It is false!\" cried Elsa wildly.  \"You are a slanderous----\"\n\n\"The King! the King!\" shouted the attendants at this moment.  \"Make way\nfor the King!\"\n\nThe quarrel at the doorway ceased as the King approached followed by his\nknights.  At his right hand came the Knight of the Swan, who seeing the\ncommotion stepped quickly forward to Elsa's side.\n\n\"What is the trouble, beloved?\" he asked quietly.\n\n\"This dreadful woman!\" exclaimed the girl pointing to Ortrud.  \"She will\nnot let me pass, and she has been saying wicked things about you.\"\n\nThe knight gave Ortrud one stern look before which even her vengeful\nspirit quailed.\n\n\"Stand aside!\" he commanded in a low voice.\n\n\"What is wrong?\" demanded the voice of the King, who had come up with\nthe group.\n\n\"Nothing now, your Majesty.  We will go forward,\" answered the Swan\nKnight, taking his trembling bride upon his arm and mounting the\ncathedral steps.\n\nBut at the threshold they met another interference. Frederick of\nTelramund, who had been lurking about watching all that happened,\nsuddenly stepped from behind the door shouting,\n\n\"Stay a moment, Elsa of Brabant.  You are being deceived, foolish girl!\nYou do not know whom you are marrying.  He is a sorcerer, and overcame\nme by magic!\"\n\nElsa was like to swoon away at this unlooked-for happening.  But the\nstranger knight whispered tenderly to her and reassured her.\n\nThe King, on his part, was thoroughly aroused by this second\ninterruption.\n\n\"Begone, sirrah!\" he exclaimed.  \"The fight was fair and the champion\nsent of Heaven.  Come not into our presence again on peril of your\nlife!\"\n\nWithout farther hindrance the wedding party entered the church; and\nwhile the great organ pealed its strains of joyful music the knight and\nhis lady were blessed and pronounced man and wife.\n\nAll that day the festivities lasted.  The King had commanded that a\nfeast be spread for every man, woman and child in the city.  The new\nProtector of Brabant was publicly acclaimed in the afternoon; while,\nthat evening, a state banquet was held in the palace.\n\nThen following an old custom the maidens went ahead of the newly wedded\ncouple to conduct them to the bridal-chamber.  And as they entered its\ndoor they sang a beautiful refrain that has greeted the ears of\ncountless brides from that day to this:\n\n    \"Fairest and best\n    We lead thee on!\"\n\n\nThere the maidens left them and went away singing as they had come.\nWhen the last sweet note had died away, the knight took his wife's two\nhands tenderly within his own.\n\n\"Elsa,\" he murmured, \"do you indeed love me; or have you wed me only\nfrom a sense of duty?\"\n\n\"I have loved you ever since I beheld you in my dreams,\" she answered.\n\"But how came you to seek me out?\"\n\n\"I am indeed Heaven-sent, as I told you.  But without your peril, I\nthink that Love would have guided me to you.  For I love you dearly,\nElsa!\"\n\n\"Ah, how sweet my name sounds upon your lips!\" she cried softly.  \"If I\ncould but utter your own, my happiness would be full.\"\n\nThe knight gazed at her in silence a moment, then led her to an open\ncasement.\n\n[Illustration: Lohengrin and Elsa\nE. Klimsch\nBy permission of F. Bruckmann, Munich]\n\n\"Breathe all the fragrance of eventide,\" he said. \"Do you not\ndistinguish many sweet odours beside the dew-laden roses near you?  The\nbreeze comes soft across the meadow and sea, bringing strange memories\nand hints of foreign shores.  Is it not all the more delightful because\nwe cannot penetrate all these mysteries? Love itself is the greatest\nmystery of all.  Let us love then and be happy in each succeeding day;\nfor when they are past we cannot recall them.  We can only remember, but\nthe mystery is gone!\"\n\n\"Yes, let us love and be happy,\" she answered doubtfully.  \"But, O my\nhusband, what shall I say when evil remarks are made, as like those by\nthat wicked woman to-day?\"\n\n\"Still thinking of her?\" he replied with an attempt at lightness.  \"She\nwill not annoy you again.  For the rest, can you not trust me?\"\n\n\"Can you not trust _me_?\" she insisted.  \"Am I not your wife and worthy\nof some degree of confidence?\"\n\n\"Elsa, once for all, this must not be!  You have given your word to\nrespect my secret.  I assure you it is not a dark secret, and that I may\nlook you frankly and joyfully in the face, as my wife.  Isn't that\nenough?\"\n\n\"But Frederick and Ortrud?  What do they know about you?  Why did\nthey--oh, I cannot get their words out of my mind!\"\n\nElsa was in fact growing hysterical.  She clung to him wildly as they\nstood in the window.  Poor girl! her recent trials had left her an easy\nprey to the insidious attack of this day.\n\nThe knight was very patient with her.  He realised her unstrung\ncondition, and tried to divert her mind by placing her gently in a chair\nwhere she could look out upon the river.\n\n\"See how white the waters gleam in the moonlight!\" he said.  \"The river\nseems like a silver ribbon stretching away.\"\n\n\"And look!\" she cried pointing.  \"There comes the swan-boat to take you\nfrom me!  Ah, do not go!\"\n\n\"Calm yourself, dear one!  There is no boat.\"\n\n\"Oh, I cannot bear this mystery!  I must question you!\"\n\n\"Elsa!\"\n\n\"I must, I must!  What is your name?\"\n\n\"Alas,\" he exclaimed.  \"Beware of what you say! Not another word I\nimplore you!\"\n\n\"Whence do you come?\" she continued wildly.\n\nAt this moment a slight noise was heard at the door, and Frederick of\nTelramund burst in.  He had enlisted the services of four of his former\nparty, resolved to make one last bold stroke and kill the Knight of the\nSwan. But again he was no match for the knight.  Alarmed by the noise,\nthe latter sprang quickly for his sword and met Frederick midway in the\nroom.  A few swift strokes and that evil man lay dead upon the floor.\nThe four nobles were seized with fear and came and knelt before the\nknight craving pardon.\n\n\"Bear him to the King,\" he said quietly pointing to his fallen foe.  \"An\naudience will be held at early sunrise under the Oak of Justice.\"\n\nThe men bowed humbly and went away with their burden.\n\nElsa had well-nigh fainted from the excitement, and now laid her head\nsobbing upon the knight's shoulder.\n\n\"Forgive me!\" she cried.  \"I recall my thoughtless words.\"\n\nFor answer he kissed her lingeringly on the brow and then struck a gong\nwhich summoned her attendants.\n\n\"I leave the Lady Elsa in your hands,\" he said. \"Array her as befits a\nbride, at the rising of the sun, and conduct her to the King.  There I\nwill answer all she asks.\"\n\nThe wondering maids hastened to Elsa's side.  She held out her hands to\nthe knight beseechingly, but he passed from the room in silence and with\nbowed head.\n\n\nThe next morning early the King held court again beneath the Oak of\nJustice.  This was the day he was to start for the wars, and many\nknights and soldiers had assembled to march with their leader, the new\nProtector of Brabant.  Henry had just come, and was answering the\ngreetings of his captains, when the four nobles appeared bearing the\nbody of Frederick of Telramund upon his shield, and followed by the\nweeping Ortrud.\n\nIn answer to the King's question as to the meaning of this, they replied\nthat the Knight of the Swan would soon appear and explain everything.\nThey had hardly finished speaking when Elsa and her maids came in view.\nElsa was attired, as yesterday, in her bridal dress, but her face was\nwoebegone, her hair dishevelled and her eyes red with weeping.  So\npitiable was her appearance that the crowd near broke into exclamations\nof pity, while the King rising hastily came forward and led her to a\nseat.\n\n\"What is the meaning of all this?\" he demanded. \"By Heaven, I will know\nthe truth!\"\n\n\"Your Majesty, the Knight of the Swan will soon appear and answer all\nquestions,\" said one of the maids.\n\nThe King was about to make a quick remark, when the knight himself\nentered the throng.  The men who expected to follow him into battle\ngreeted him with cheers, but he made no response beyond a sad smile and\nshake of the head.  He wore the same glittering armour of his first\nappearance, but his head was slightly bent as if in thought, and his\nsteps were slow and reluctant.\n\nThe hot-blooded King could no longer restrain himself.\n\n\"I would know the meaning of these things!\" he said, scarcely responding\nto the Swan Knight's silent greeting. He pointed to the body of\nFrederick.  \"Who has done this deed?\"\n\n\"I slew him in self-defence,\" answered the knight. Then he told of the\nattack within his room, and took the four nobles to witness that he told\nthe truth.  \"With your Majesty's permission I will leave the verdict to\nall the people,\" he ended.\n\nThus appealed to, the people cried loudly that he was innocent of wrong,\nand that Heaven had sent him to rid the land of a usurper and a coward.\n\n\"I also deem that you have done justly,\" said the King.  \"But what means\nthe sorrow of this lady whom I took under my especial protection?\nAnswer, and carefully!\"\n\n\"I have promised the Lady Elsa to answer her questions, and I shall\nlikewise answer yours,\" replied the knight, courteously.  \"The fighting\nmen of Brabant--stout hearts and true--have gathered here to-day\nexpecting that I shall lead them to the wars.  This cannot be.  I must\ntell my story and then bid farewell to all.\"\n\nA general murmur of dissent arose at this, but the knight stood unmoved\nwaiting for silence.  Presently as a hush fell, he began to speak again,\nslowly and earnestly.\n\n\"In a far-away land,\" he said, \"there stands a sacred hill called Mount\nSalvat.  Upon this hill rise the walls and towers of a mystic castle,\ncalled the Temple of the Grail, for within it is preserved the most\nprecious relic in all the world--the Holy Grail.  The knights who guard\nthis shrine are a close brotherhood who have renounced the world and\ngiven their lives to self-sacrifice and good deeds.  In reward for this,\nthe sacred Cup gives them power beyond that of other men.  They may\njourney into distant lands to help the weak and relieve distress, and\nalways will they be victorious.  But if they disclose the secret of\ntheir power, they must return to Mount Salvat.\n\n\"Thus was I sent to become the Lady Elsa's champion; and I had fondly\nhoped to dwell among you and be worthy of her love and trust.  But now\nthis cannot be. Enemies have persuaded her that my name and rank must be\nrevealed; so it only is left for me to tell my lineage.  I am not\nashamed of this.  I am the son of Parsifal, chief Guardian of the Grail.\nMy name is Lohengrin.\"\n\nAs he ceased speaking, amid the profound silence, voices were heard from\nthe river's bank.\n\n\"The swan! the swan!  See, he comes again!\"\n\nElsa threw herself upon the ground in an agony of grief.\n\n\"Ah, do not go away!\" she moaned, clasping the knight's feet.  \"Do not\ngo away and leave me!  I shall die!\"\n\nLohengrin extended his finger sadly toward the bend in the stream, where\nthe swan drew the boat majestically forward.\n\n\"It is the summons of Heaven,\" he said.  \"I have no other choice.\nFarewell, beloved, forever!\"\n\nHe raised her and she clung wildly to him as though she could not let\nhim go.  He gently resisted her.\n\n\"See!\" he said.  \"Here is my sword and ring and bugle, which will bring\nvictory in every battle-field. Keep them for your brother, of whom I\ngive you good news.  He is alive and may return in safety one day. I had\nhoped to bring him back to you within the year if I had been permitted\nto remain.\"\n\n\"But you have failed, my fine hero!\" cried a taunting voice which made\nthem all turn quickly.  It was Ortrud who had come forward for one last\nbitter triumph. \"You have failed, so you and your pretty little bride\nmay now hear the truth.  It was _I_ who caused her to ask those\ntroublesome questions!  And it was _I_ who made away with her precious\nbrother!  I know one or two tricks of magic myself, and one of them\nturned the boy----into yonder swan!  Ha, ha, ha!\"\n\nShe laughed harshly and pointed to the mystic bird now at the river\nbrink, while King and courtiers looked on in amazed silence.\n\nLohengrin alone remained calm at her outburst.  He sank upon his knees\nand, lifting his noble face so that the sunlight seemed to irradiate it\nwith a glory, he prayed to Heaven earnestly and silently for aid.\nSuddenly, down a beam of light, a white dove fluttered.  It was the dove\nof the Grail.  Accepting this as a sign that his prayer was answered,\nLohengrin unfastened the swan from the boat, when the bird vanished\nbeneath the surface of the water, and in its stead rose a fair young\nknight.  Lohengrin took his hand and led him forward.\n\n\"This is Godfrey, the rightful Duke of Brabant!\" he said.  \"Behold your\nchief, who will lead you to victory!\"\n\nGodfrey knelt in homage to the King who raised him up and embraced him,\nwhile the people promised him their glad allegiance.  Then Godfrey and\nElsa rushed into each other's arms in the joy of reunion.  Overcome with\nrage, Ortrud sank swooning across the steps of the throne.  Meanwhile\nLohengrin, seeing that Elsa was in the arms of her brother, entered the\nboat, whose chains were seized by the tiny dove.  A flutter of its\nwings, and lo! the boat moved easily out on the stream and went swiftly\nforward against the current.\n\nWhen Elsa raised her eyes from her dear brother's face, she beheld the\nboat already far out upon the sunlit water.  The knight stood leaning\nupon his shield, his whole figure shining, it seemed, with unearthly\nradiance, and alas! fading away like some splendid dream.\n\nWith a last despairing cry of \"My husband! my husband!\" Elsa sank\nprostrate upon the shore.  Her dream it had been, and it was ended.\n\n\n\n\n                    *Tannhaeuser the Knight of Song*\n\n                             (_Tannhauser_)\n\n\nAfter the coming of Christianity into the world, people no longer\nbelieved in the old gods and goddesses.  They were called evil spirits,\nor else people said that they had never really existed at all.  But\nthere was one goddess who was still believed in, although she was feared\nand even hated.  She was Venus, goddess of Love, and in the heyday of\nher power she was worshipped in many lands.  For did not Love stir the\nhearts of all men, and would it not rule all the world at the last?  And\nso Venus had been given all honour and affection; and in return she had\nbeen the kindest of all the deities and had tried to make her subjects\nhappier and more considerate one with another.\n\nBut now, as I say, all this was changed.  People had ceased to worship\nVenus, and in revenge she began to do everything she could to injure\nthem.  Instead of pure affection which makes the heart glad, she sent a\nbaser love which is only selfish and which brings jealousy and quarrels\nand heart-aches in its train.  And Venus herself, from being a goddess,\nbecame a witch.  She went to dwell in a deep cavern within a mountain in\nGermany which came to be called the Venusberg.  Here she would lie in\nwait for men whom she would enchant and keep imprisoned within the\nmountain forever.  They would forget their homes and loved\nones--everything--while they served her and were subject to her wiles.\nThey no longer saw the sun or moon or stars or the fresh green of the\nspringing grass.  Instead, they lived in a rose-coloured twilight filled\nwith beautiful clouds, the heavy perfume of flowers, and the dancing,\nlaughing figures of youths and maidens--spirits of this mysterious\nunderworld ruled by the witch Venus.\n\nOne day while this enchantress was watching and waiting near the\nentrance to her grotto she saw a knight coming slowly over the\nmountains.  He was young and handsome, with the first fine strength of\nearly manhood, but just now he seemed moody and dispirited.  Venus who\ncould read the hearts of men knew who he was and whence he came, but as\nyou have not yet heard, I will pause to tell you.\n\nThe young knight's name was Tannhaeuser and he lived in the country of\nThuringia.  At this time there were many minstrels, or strolling\nsingers, in the land, and so popular were they at all the courts that\neven the knights laid aside their swords and spears and forgot their\njoustings for the harp and its music and the contests of song.  The King\nof this country, in his castle at Wartburg, had held many song contests\nor tournaments, and great was the honour to any knight or minstrel who\nwon his prizes.\n\nOne of the best harpers and sweetest singers of them all was\nTannhaeuser.  He had early shown a fine ear for music, and when the time\ncame for him to enter the contests, he won many prizes and bade fair to\noutdistance all the others.  Indeed, it was whispered that so appealing\nwere his harp chords and so wonderful was his voice, that he had quite\nwon the heart of the King's niece, the Princess Elizabeth.\n\nYet Tannhaeuser was not entirely happy.  He loved the Princess and he\nloved his music, but although both smiled upon him he felt vaguely\ndissatisfied.  It seemed to him as though the honours and pleasures of\nthe world had come with too little effort.  He wanted to reach out\nbeyond for other things still unattainable--he knew not what.\n\nFinally he bade farewell to the Princess, and to his friends at the\ncastle, saying that he was going to travel in distant lands.  The\nparting was sorrowful, although he had fully resolved upon it; and now\nas he set forth across the mountains carrying only his harp he was\ndoubly sad and cast down.\n\nSuddenly the rock door of a cavern swung aside before his gaze as if by\nmagic.  In the dimly lighted entrance he saw a beautiful woman standing\nand stretching out her arms to him.  Her figure was outlined by a halo,\nas it were, caused by the rosy glow which came from within the cave.  It\nwas Venus who sought to lure him.  Her terrible witches' eyes were hid\nbehind a smiling face, and she was once again the fairest woman in all\nthe world. Now she wove a spell while she beckoned to him.\n\n\"Come,\" she said softly.  \"I have seen your unrest and alone can bring\nyou happiness.  In my blest land you will find all the music and beauty\nfor which you seek.  Come!\"\n\nScarcely knowing what he did, the knight obeyed the enchantress and\nentered the portal.  As he did so the heavy stone closed behind him and\nat the same moment the memory of his earth-life vanished like a dream.\nHe had become in a moment a subject of Venus.  Taking him by the hand\nshe led him far into the depths of her mysterious realm, and at every\nstep his wonder and delight increased.  Here the very trees seemed\nattuned to harmony.  There the waves of a deep blue lake sang of love as\nthey beat upon the shore.  Out on the water swam bewitching mermaids;\nwhile on the strand the light graceful figures of elves and sirens\nengaged in mimic warfare.\n\nHere at last Tannhaeuser thought he had found true beauty and happiness.\nAnd so he gladly served his queen for a whole year, thinking of it only\nas a single day.  He had, in fact, completely forgotten his old life,\nand lived wholly in the present, content with the joys of the moment.\n\nBut at last a change came over him.  Something, he knew not what,\nstirred within him and told him that he was a slave.  He began to\nrealise that he was under the power of a spell and that he had given up\nmany things for which he now dimly longed.  He began to grow restless\nand silent.\n\nThe watchful Venus saw this new mood almost before he was aware of it.\nAnxious to overcome it, she prepared new and wilder pleasures day by\nday.  Dances, pageants, masquerades, tableaux, banquets and tournaments\nfollowed each in bewildering succession.  Concerts were given which far\nexcelled the music of earth.  Her wiles seemed successful.  For the\ntime, Tannhaeuser forgot his moodiness; and when Venus asked him to\ncompose a song in her honour, he responded with one full of praise of\nher beauty and charm.  Then he sang of the life at Venusberg and its\nattractiveness.  But even as he sang his new found longing gained hold\nof him and he ended with an outburst which surprised even him:\n\n    \"'Tis freedom I must win or die.\n    For freedom I can all defy:\n    In rose-hued grottos I am longing\n    For all the soft wood zephyrs thronging,\n    For vision of fair heaven's blue,\n    The songs of birds, the old earth's view!\n    Come life, come death, forth would I go\n    To taste of human joy or woe;\n    No more in slavery would I lie,--\n    O queen, O goddess, let me fly!\"\n\n\nVenus was full of anger at this direct appeal for freedom, in spite of\nall her arts; but she hid her feelings behind a smile and said in soft\ntones,\n\n\"Whither would you fly?  Are not all things here in perfection?  What\nmore would you desire?  Ask, and you shall be obeyed!\"\n\n\"I want only freedom,\" said the knight mournfully.\n\n\"What is freedom?  Where could you go?  The earth you speak of has\nforgotten you.  Here you are immortal and all things are yours.\"\n\n\"Still I would away,\" persisted Tannhaeuser.  \"I know not where.  O\nqueen, give me leave to try another life for myself--something that will\nmeet this new found longing within my breast!  I will not be disloyal to\nyour memory.  Indeed, I will sing your praise, and yours alone.  But\ngive me leave to go!\"\n\n\"Then depart!\" said Venus, her voice growing cold with anger.  \"Out of\nmy sight, ungrateful mortal! But heed well my warning.  You have lost\nyour hold upon the other world by lingering here, and men will shun you\nwhen they find whence you come.  Some day you will return to me, and\nwillingly.  Till then, away!\"\n\n[Illustration: \"O Queen, O Goddess, let me fly!\"\nJ. Wagrez\nPhoto, Braun, Clement & Co.]\n\nShe stamped her foot, and in a moment the scene changed like the\ndissolving picture upon a stage. Instead of the grotto with its perfume\nand dim lights and dancing figures, Tannhaeuser found himself lying upon\na grassy knoll under the wide blue sky of heaven and with the bright\nsunlight streaming full upon him.  He rose as if waking from a deep\nsleep, stretched his limbs and took a long breath of the sweet pure air.\nAs he did so he cast his eyes across the valley and instantly his past\nlife came back to him fresh and distinct as if but yesterday.\n\nThere stood the noble castle of Wartburg where he had taken part in the\ncontests of song; where the King had been gracious to him; and where the\nbeautiful Elizabeth had smiled at his coming.  A pang smote his heart\nwhen he remembered her sweet graciousness. Where was she now; and how\nlong had it been since he proved so unworthy of her?\n\nNear by, a shepherd played upon his pipe while his flock grazed\ncontentedly near him.  Presently the piper called the sheep and they\nfollowed him down the valley to fresh pastures.\n\nThen the sound of men's voices singing came to the knight's ears from a\ndistant mountain path.  Slowly it drew near and grew more distinct--a\nmournful yet beautiful melody chanted by a group of pilgrims on their\nway to Rome.  As the words of the penitential song reached him, the\nknight felt for the first time the weight of his sin in turning aside\nfrom the path of duty. Overcome with remorse he fell upon his knees\nbefore a wayside cross and prayed fervently for forgiveness.\n\nWhile he knelt a new sound smote the air.  It was the blast of hunting\nhorns mingled with the joyous baying of hounds.  Presently the King\nhimself entered with a troop of huntsmen starting out upon the chase. As\nthey passed near the kneeling knight the King recognised him, and\nreining his horse he asked kindly where Tannhaeuser had been.\n\n\"I have been in strange lands, your Majesty,\" answered the minstrel\nknight sadly.  \"I went in search of many things, but I found them not.\nI pray you let me fare on my way.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" answered the King.  \"We have missed you greatly in the lists\nof song, and upon the chase. Stay with us at least for a time.\"\n\nThe other knights joined the entreaties of the King. To tell the truth,\nsome were not over anxious for his return, as they remembered only too\nwell how he had vanquished them in singing.  But there was one of their\nnumber who had been Tannhaeuser's steadfast friend--Wolfram von\nEschenbach by name--who hastened to greet him and urge him to remain\nwith them.  Wolfram had been a rival of Tannhaeuser, not only in song\nbut also for the favour of the Princess.  Yet this did not detract from\nhis generous welcome.\n\nBut still the wandering minstrel hesitated to return; and it is probable\nthat he would have gone on his way had not Wolfram said in a low voice,\n\n\"Let the welcome of still another win you back to us. There is one\nyonder in the castle to whom the sight of your face will bring back the\nlight in her eyes and the smile on her lips.  In sooth she has drooped\nsadly since you went away.  And the contests of song which she was wont\nto grace with her presence are now forsaken by her.  Need I tell her\nname to you?  Have you indeed forgotten the fairest among maidens, the\nPrincess Elizabeth?\"\n\nTannhaeuser trembled violently at the mention of her name.  A deep\nlonging came over him to behold her face once more and hear the sound of\nher voice, although he felt with tenfold anguish the sense of his own\nunworthiness. His eyes were full of tears as he turned and looked toward\nthe castle shining in the sunlight upon the farther hill.\n\n\"I pray you lead me to her presence,\" he said simply.\n\n\"Come!\" commanded the King, seeing Wolfram take Tannhaeuser by the hand.\nAnd turning with all his cavalcade he escorted the wanderer back to the\ncastle with all the pomp of a conqueror.\n\n\nThat very night had been set apart for one of the yearly contests of\nsong; and though the lists had long been closed, the King gave command\nthat Tannhaeuser's name should be added.  The Princess Elizabeth had not\nbeen visible when the company first returned to the castle.  But she had\nheard of her knight's return, and had joyfully promised to attend the\ncontest; so the occasion bade fair to be of more than usual splendour.\n\nIn the evening, before the expected guests were assembled, the Princess\nwent to the Minstrels' Hall--a large circular chamber with high columns\nand arched roof--to attend personally to setting it in order, and also\nperchance, as her heart confessed, to catch an early glimpse of her\nbeloved knight.\n\nFair was the Princess as a May morning, with deep blue eyes that had\ncaught some of the far-off sky in them.  Her hair was soft and golden\nand curly as that of a little child.  Slight of frame was she, but with\na gracefulness and height that gave her a queenly dignity. Her cheeks,\ntoo often pale of late, were to-day flushed with animation.  She had\nindeed missed her minstrel sadly, and now her heart bounded at the news\nof his return.\n\nPresently she heard a familiar footfall in the room, and knew without\nlooking up that it was he.\n\n\"O Princess, forgive!\" said a voice.  Tannhaeuser was kneeling at her\nfeet, his hands stretched out imploringly.\n\n\"You must not kneel to me,\" she answered, gently endeavouring to raise\nhim.  \"It is not for me to forgive. Only tell me where you have been so\nlong.\"\n\n\"I cannot tell you that,\" he replied brokenly.  \"I have wandered far\naway from your dear presence; and between yesterday and to-day the veil\nof oblivion is dropped.  Every remembrance has forever vanished save one\nthing only rising from the darkness,--the thought that some day I might\nbehold your face again and hear you say, 'I forgive.'\"\n\nElizabeth covered her face with her hands, but the glad tears trickled\nbetween her fingers; and Tannhaeuser, beholding her emotion, realised\nhow deeply he had been loved and what a pearl he had cast away.\n\n[Illustration: Tannhaeuser and Elizabeth\nE. Klimsch\nBy permission of F. Bruckmann, Munich]\n\nBut the Princess like all loving women was forgiving. She asked no more\nquestions of the minstrel, but when he took one of her hands and then\nthe other, as all lovers will, she let them linger in his own in perfect\ncontent.\n\nThe entrance of the King broke upon their little scene of\nreconciliation.  He saw it all at a glance and came forward with a frank\nsmile.\n\n\"Ah, it is as I had hoped!\" he said, as he took a hand of each and held\nit for a moment.  \"Now let us have no more quarrels, but live together\nas harmoniously as one of our minstrel's songs.\"\n\nThus it was that Tannhaeuser realised, in a great wave of thankfulness,\nthat his old life was still open to him, and not closed as Venus had\nsaid.  He resolved to be worthy henceforth of his position and honours.\nAbove all would he cherish this sweet Princess who loved him so\nunselfishly.\n\nNot long after this, the sound of trumpets proclaimed that the contest\nwas about to begin.  The King and the Princess took their places upon a\ndais at one side of the hall, while Tannhaeuser retired to make his\nproper entry with the other minstrel knights.\n\nSoon the people began to throng the hall.  Nobles and ladies came first\nand passed before the throne and bowed before taking their seats.  Then\ncame warriors and chosen guests.  And finally with another flourish of\nthe trumpets entered the singers of the evening. Each was a famous\nknight who like Tannhaeuser had laid aside the sword in favour of the\ngentler harp.  The fame of some of these knights, like Wolfram von\nEschenbach and Walter von der Vogelweide, is known to this day.  But\namong them all none was more handsome or of better renown than\nTannhaeuser.\n\nAs these knights did obeisance and took the places assigned to them, the\nKing rose and thanked them all for their attendance.  The subject of the\nsongs, he said, was to be \"Love\"; and whoso should sing best on this\nlofty theme should receive the prize from the hand of the Princess\nElizabeth.  Let him ask what he would added the generous King, and it\nshould be granted.\n\nMore than one of the knights had been a suitor for the Princess's hand,\nand they saw in this promise a reward for their dearest hopes.  So you\nmay imagine what a wave of suppressed excitement went around all the\ncrowded hall at this announcement.  The hands of the minstrels trembled\nas they drew lots for the order of their songs.\n\nThe lot of Wolfram came first, and amid a profound hush he rose to\nbegin.\n\nThrumming the harp strings with a practised hand he began in a low clear\nvoice to sing of unselfish devotion and chivalry.  Wolfram had long\nloved the Princess, but had generously yielded place in favour of his\nfriend Tannhaeuser.  Now his song showed the nobility of the man.  He\npaid tribute to the ladies of the court among whom the Princess shone as\nsome rare gem.  Then, his voice rising steadily higher till it thrilled\nhis hearers, he sang of the one true love that counted its highest joy\nthe sacrifice of even life itself for the loved one.\n\nWhen Wolfram had finished, the hall resounded with cries of acclamation;\nfor indeed his song had been beautiful, and no less true.  Tannhaeuser\nalone did not join in the applause.  While the song was being sung he\nhad sat silent as one in a dream.  Again before his eyes came the vision\nof the fairy grotto with its gorgeous pictures and entrancing music.\nHe, seemed to see the bewitching figure of Venus and to hear his own\nvoice as he promised her, \"I will sing your praise and yours alone.\"\n\nScarcely knowing what he did, Tannhaeuser sprang to his feet, before the\napplause for his rival had subsided, and began to sing an answer to\nWolfram's strain.  But how different was his theme!  Instead of the pure\nexalted love which gloried in self-sacrifice, he sang of selfish desire\nwhich sought only for personal gratification. Truly the enchantment was\nstill upon him, for he could think only of the life of the grotto and\nthe round of pleasures which had been planned for him, rather than of\nany devotion upon his own part.  But that was the way in which Venus,\nonce the goddess of true love, now weakened men's minds.\n\nWhen Tannhaeuser began to sing, the audience gave him close heed.  He\nhad not proceeded far, however, with his strange theme, when murmurs of\nanger and dissent began to be heard, which increased until one of the\nminstrels at length sprang to his feet.\n\n\"The love you sing is false!\" he cried; \"false as your own heart!  We\nwill not hear it in silence, nor suffer you thus to cast a slur upon all\ntrue knights.  I challenge you to mortal combat!\"\n\nThese words were loudly cheered by other minstrels. The entire hall was\nin an uproar until the King arose and commanded silence.  Then Wolfram\nwas seen standing once more with harp in hand, beckoning to be heard.\n\nIn words of kindly reproach he rebuked Tannhaeuser for his selfish and\nunworthy song.  He could not know what real devotion was, Wolfram said,\nif he placed it upon so low a plane.  Then Wolfram again touched his\nharp strings and sang a pleasing tender refrain in praise of the love to\nwhich they all aspired.\n\nBut Tannhaeuser rudely interrupted him, and heeding not the clamour\nwhich broke forth again, he sang in wild reckless fashion of the life he\nhad led during the past year.  He told of the grotto, its music, its\nperfumes, its exquisite scenes and round of delights presided over by\nVenus herself.\n\n\"Your heroic self-sacrifice,\" he ended sneeringly, \"is cold and tame in\ncomparison with this!  And the fairest women of earth pale into\ninsignificance beside this wonderful goddess.  Ah, Venus!  I have kept\nmy promise!  _Thine_ be the praise!\"\n\nHe ended as one in a trance--as in truth the poor knight must have been.\nHe stood motionless with gaze fixed as it were upon some hidden scene,\nwhile his harp fell clattering from his hand to the ground.\n\nThen the outcry burst forth with redoubled fury. The minstrels surged\nforward tumultuously crying,\n\n\"He has been to the Venusberg!  He has fallen under the power of the\nevil one!  Away with him!  Kill him!\"\n\nIn their anger and horror of him they must have slain him, had not\nsomeone interposed.  But quick as thought a slender, white-robed figure\nstood between them and the misguided knight, and held out her hands\nentreatingly. It was Elizabeth.  She had sat there sick at heart\nlistening to her chosen minstrel's song.  All too well she saw how\nunworthy was the one to whom she had given her heart; but, once given,\nshe could not recall it in a moment.  She would pray for him, and live\nin the hope that he might yet prove worthy.\n\n\"Stop!\" she cried to the nobles who circled about Tannhaeuser, with\nswords drawn, \"Stop, I command you!  Would you slay him with all his\nsins ripe upon his head?\"\n\n\"He has dishonoured knighthood!\" muttered the minstrel who had\npreviously challenged him.  \"He deserves no mercy.\"\n\n\"Then that is all the more reason why you should grant mercy,\" she\nanswered.\n\nBy this time the King had asserted his authority, and soon the semblance\nof peace was restored.  Then Elizabeth in all her sweet dignity pleaded\nthe cause of Tannhaeuser.  Addressing now the King, now the nobles, and\nnow the knight himself, she pointed out that Tannhaeuser was still under\nthe spell of evil into which he had fallen, and was not accountable for\nhis deeds.\n\n\"Give him another opportunity, O my King!\" she concluded.  \"Perchance in\nthe doing of some penance or some gracious act, his better heart will\nassert itself, and he will then see how he has wounded all our hearts\nthis day.\"\n\nAs she finished speaking she turned, to find at her feet the penitent\nknight.  The vision had passed leaving him bowed down under the burden\nof his sin and unworthiness.  He kissed the hem of her garment while\ntears flowed fast and unchecked from his eyes.  For his life he cared\nnot a straw.  But that he should have sunk so low in the eyes of this\nnoble woman--the thought smote his heart with keenest anguish!\n\nThen the voice of the King came to him, as it were an echo,--\n\n\"One path alone can save you from perdition and everlasting woe,\nabandoned man!  That path is now open to your steps.  To-day a band of\npilgrims are setting forth on their toilsome way to Rome.  Depart with\nthem and seek pardon for your sins.\"\n\nEven as the King spoke, a chant was heard through the open portal.\nTannhaeuser recognised it as the same sweet strain he had heard that\nmorning by the wayside cross.  He kissed the hem of Elizabeth's robe\nonce again and dared to look with mute entreaty into her eyes. Then he\nsprang quickly to his feet and addressed the King in two wild, hopeful\nwords.\n\n\"To Rome!\" he cried, and hurried from the hall to join the pilgrim band.\n\n\nOne year passed slowly by.  Again it was spring-time, fragrant with the\nbursting of buds and melodious with the song of nesting birds.  And now\nthe return of the pilgrims was anxiously expected at Wartburg.  But\namong them all, no heart was more anxious than Elizabeth's. Day after\nday she had sat in the casement overlooking the valley.  Night after\nnight she had knelt in fervent prayer for the safety of one who was a\nwanderer over the face of the earth.  And daily would she go, attended\nby her maids, to the little wayside cross where Tannhaeuser had knelt\nwhen the pilgrims passed by. Indeed, her whole life seemed to hang upon\nthe love which she had given and could not recall.  Her prayer was only\nthat her loved one might be forgiven, and that she might see his face\nagain before she died.\n\nOne afternoon just at sunset while she knelt, as her custom was, before\nthe cross, Wolfram von Eschenbach approached her.  His love was still as\nnoble and unselfish as it had been in former days, and so he longed\nalmost as earnestly as she for the return of her pilgrim, forgiven.\nThat she might be happy and restored to health was his great desire.\nTo-day the sight of her pale and wasted features alarmed him.\n\n\"Health to you, my Princess!\" he said saluting her, and then continued,\n\"Methinks it is now about the time of year when our pilgrim band should\nreturn.\"\n\n\"Hast heard any news?\" she asked, starting up.\n\n\"None.  But the hermit Peter is of opinion that they will be back before\nanother change of the moon.\"\n\n\"Ah, God grant that they may!\" the Princess said, wearily sinking again\nbefore the cross.\n\nWhile Wolfram stood gazing sadly at her dear face, she suddenly turned\nher head, and a look of rapt attention came into her eyes.\n\n\"Listen!\" she exclaimed softly while she sprang again to her feet.\n\"Listen! do you not hear it?  It is _their_ song!\"\n\nIt was indeed the far-off chant of the pilgrims which her quick ear had\ncaught.  They were returning at last!\n\nSoon the little company came in sight, and then filed slowly by,\nrejoicing that their penance had been accepted and their sins forgiven.\nBut to the eager eyes of the two onlookers one figure did not appear.\nTannhaeuser was not among them.\n\n\"He will never return!\" said Elizabeth quietly; and giving one last\ndespairing glance down the valley she fell upon her knees and made a\nlast pitiful little prayer.  It was that death might soon come to ease\nher aching heart.  Until then she vowed devoted service to the church,\nand she asked in return that Tannhaeuser might still be forgiven.\n\nThe prayer ended, Elizabeth rose and slowly walked away toward the\ncastle.  Wolfram looked after her, as long as she was in sight, with a\nstrange foreboding clutching at his heart-strings,--it was that he would\nnever see her again alive.\n\nThe sun had long since sunk, and the twilight was deepening, but Wolfram\nstill lingered by the little cross made sacred by her presence.  As he\ntarried, the evening star rose above the rim of hills and began to glow\nwith peaceful brilliancy.  It seemed to Wolfram as though the soul of\nElizabeth were there, shining in that far-off sky.  He began to sing a\nbeautiful measure filled with this thought and beginning,\n\n    \"O thou sublime, sweet evening star!\"\n\n\nScarcely were the last notes silent when a pilgrim drew near.  He was\ntattered, footsore and dejected, yet at the first glance Wolfram knew\nhim.\n\n\"Tannhaeuser!\" he exclaimed.  \"What does this mean?  Do not tell me that\nyou have not received pardon, for the King would not allow you to return\notherwise.\"\n\nTannhaeuser did not reply to his questions, but merely said,\n\n\"Show me the road to the Venusberg.  I have lost my way.\"\n\n\"You have indeed lost your way, unhappy man, if you would return to that\nevil place!\" exclaimed his friend.  \"But first tell me, have you been to\nRome?\"\n\n\"I have been to Rome.\"\n\n\"Were not your sins forgiven?\"\n\n\"You see how I return,\" answered Tannhaeuser defiantly.\n\n\"I pray you, for old friendship's sake, tell me all!\" pleaded Wolfram.\n\"Did you not do penance, and then go before the Pope?\"\n\n\"Aye, so I did!  Every pain and penance set forth in the calendar I did\nfaithfully perform.  I afflicted my body with grievous blows.  I gave\nall my substance to the poor.  I ministered to the sick.  I prayed night\nand morning before every shrine.  I asked forgiveness continually, yet\nmy soul felt heavy and oppressed. Then I went before the Holy Father and\nconfessed all my sin.  He had pardoned the other members of our band;\nbut when he heard that I had lived a year in the Venusberg he was filled\nwith horror and indignation.\n\n\"'Out of my sight!' he exclaimed.  'There is no mercy for such as you!\nAs soon would I expect this staff in my hand to bud and bring forth\ngreen leaves.'\n\n\"Thus am I for all time accursed,\" continued the wanderer bitterly.\n\"There is but one thing left for me to do.  The enchantress told me that\nall men would renounce me and that when I was driven from the world I\ncould find refuge again in her grotto.  I must turn to her.\"\n\n\"Ah, do not go!\" said Wolfram, laying a detaining hand upon his friend's\nshoulder.  \"Do not throw your last slender chance of salvation away; but\nlive a life of good deeds and self-sacrifice!  There was one who knelt\nat this cross only this evening and prayed to heaven for your pardon.\nSuch prayers do not go unheeded!\"\n\n\"Too late!\" groaned Tannhaeuser.  \"I am utterly unworthy and cast off!\nIf you will not direct my steps to the Venusberg, I must summon the\ngoddess herself to my aid.\"\n\nAnd raising his voice he called aloud to Venus, under the name of\ngoddess, and asked her to aid his distress.\n\nInstantly the shades of evening were lighted by a ruddy glow, while a\nheavy fragrance smote the senses. In a radiant mist dim figures were\nseen which danced forward laughingly and beckoned and pointed.  And down\nthe bright broad pathway they trod, a flood of rose-coloured light\nstreamed from a portal in the side of the hill, while there in the\nentrance stood Venus, a vision of evil beauty and charm.\n\n\"Farewell, forever!\" cried Tannhaeuser to his friend. \"I go to the only\nhaven left for me.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" exclaimed Wolfram; \"an angel is even now pleading your cause\nin Heaven.  It is the soul of Elizabeth!  See!\"\n\nHe pointed as he spoke to a procession of woe that was filing out of the\ncastle gate.  It was a group of mourners bearing torches and chanting a\nsolemn refrain. As it drew near a bier was discerned in the midst, and\nthereon lay the lifeless form of the Princess.\n\n\"Elizabeth!  Ah, dear Lord have pity!\" said Tannhaeuser in hushed tones\nwhile he watched the procession advance.  \"Have pity and save me from\nthe power of the evil one!\"\n\nAt these words the magic light of the Venusberg vanished as suddenly as\nit had come.  The enchantress realised that her victim was lost to her\nforever.\n\nBut Tannhaeuser paid no heed to these things.  He stood only gazing at\nthe mournful procession which was passing by.  At a gesture from Wolfram\nit halted; and then Tannhaeuser came with slow, reverent steps to the\nside of the bier.  As he sank upon his knees his strength suddenly left\nhim and he felt as though his hold upon life were slipping away.  But\nwith it went his burden of sin and sorrow, leaving behind a blessed\npeace such as he had never known before.\n\n\"Elizabeth--dear saint in heaven--pray for me!\" he murmured.\n\nHis head sank down until his forehead touched her hand.\n\nSuddenly the intense stillness was broken by a thrilling cry from the\nouter edge of the circle.\n\n\"A miracle! a miracle!\" said a voice.\n\nWolfram pushed his way gently to his friend's side. In his hand was the\nPope's staff--and it had budded and brought forth green leaves!\n\n\"See the sign which God hath sent!\" he said in hushed tones.  \"It is a\ntoken that all your sins are forgiven.\"\n\nTannhaeuser's face brightened into a glorious smile, but he uttered no\nsound.  Instead, his head fell forward again until it was pillowed by\nElizabeth's white arm. The way-worn pilgrim had ended his journey.  The\nKnight of Song had heard the harmony of true love sung by a celestial\nchoir.  His wandering steps had been guided by the faith of one\nsteadfast soul into the ways of peace.\n\n\n\n\n                          *The Master Singers*\n\n                  (_Die Meistersinger von Nuernberg_)\n\n\nYou and I have just read of a song contest which ended sadly; so I know\nwe shall be glad to read about another which ended in quite different\nfashion.  But how that was, I cannot tell you beforehand.  You must\nfollow the story for yourself.\n\nAt the time when the knights were glad to be known as minstrels--or\n\"minnesingers,\" as they were called in Germany--the plain citizens and\ntradespeople were likewise interested in the art of song-writing.\nSometimes they formed musical societies, or guilds, which laid down\ncertain rules and offered prizes; and anyone was at liberty to try for\nthese prizes, provided he obeyed all the rules.\n\nThe quaint old city of Nuremberg was one of the chief music centres of\nthe day, being widely noted for its guilds and contests.  One of the\nleading societies was composed entirely of tradespeople, such as the\nbutcher, the baker, and the candlestick-maker, and every fellow became\nso filled with the spirit of the times that he couldn't sharpen a knife\nor blow a bellows without keeping time with his feet and trying to\nwhistle a brand new tune in the doing of it!  In fact, Hans Sachs, the\ngenial old cobbler, was perpetually hammering out new ditties with lusty\nblows upon his leather, so that many of his verses are known to this\nday.\n\nThe rules of this guild, I am telling you about, were somewhat odd.\nWhen a person composed a certain number of tunes he was called a singer.\nWhen he could compose the words to fit a given piece of music, he was\ncalled a poet.  And when he could write both words and music he was\ngiven the title of Master Singer, spelled in capital letters, and\nmightily proud was he of this distinction!  Of course, the music sung\nbefore this society had to conform to set principles which they believed\nright.  But this was the great trouble with such societies; for while\nthey fostered much song-writing, very little of it was original or\ndifferent from the tweedle-dum, tweedle-dee which had gone before.\n\nNevertheless, the citizens of Nuremberg were quite vainglorious over\ntheir guild, and believed it turned out the finest singers in the land.\nIts yearly contests were widely attended, and great was the rivalry each\nyear to secure the chief prize, which was the title of Master Singer.\n\nBut great as had been the contests of the past, the excitement was\nincreased tenfold upon a day when the leading goldsmith of the city,\nVeit Pogner by name, announced a special prize for the coming contest.\nHe said that he would give his fortune to the winner and also bestow\nupon him the hand of his daughter Eva. But one proviso was made to this\ngenerous offer; the suitor must be to some extent suitable to Eva\nherself. By this means Herr Pogner hoped not only to bring out new and\ngreat musicians at the contest, but also to wed his daughter only to a\nMaster Singer--upon which last his heart had been set.\n\nEva herself had held quite different ideas on the subjects of music and\nmarriage.  A light-hearted and somewhat coquettish girl, her pretty head\nhad been interested in many other things besides the monotonous singing\nof the butcher and baker, or the pompous airs of the dried-up little\ntown clerk, Sixtus Beckmesser, who had long aspired in secret for her\nfavour.\n\nIt must be confessed, indeed, that Eva was not always as sedate as she\nmight be.  On the day when our story opens, she had attended church very\ndutifully, but her eyes had wandered from her hymn-book more than once\ndespite the energetic nudges of her maid Magdalen.  The secret of Eva's\ninattention was revealed at the close of the service when, as they\nturned to leave the church, a handsome young knight stepped forward.\nHis name was Walter von Stolzen, and although he lived in an adjoining\nprovince, this was not the first time he had sought speech with the\npretty Eva.\n\nTo-day he had hastened to church to see her and ask her a momentous\nquestion.  He had heard some rumours of her father's plan to wed her to\na Master Singer and it had filled his heart with wild unrest.\n\n\"A word with you, I beseech,\" he said to Eva in a low tone as she and\nher maid drew near where he stood.\n\n\"Magdalen, I have forgotten my kerchief,\" said Eva, turning to the maid.\n\"Will you not see if it is in the pew?\"\n\nThe maid went in search of the missing article and presently returned\nwith it.\n\n\"Oh, I am so careless!\" exclaimed her mistress.  \"I had a little\nscarf-pin on, when I came in.  See if I have dropped it thereabouts.\"\n\nMagdalen went and after some little time she came back with the pin.\n\n\"Thank you.  You are a good girl,\" said Eva.  \"Now if you will find\nwhere I have left my prayer-book, I think we will be quite ready to\nstart.\"\n\nThe maid returned to the pew a third time, and when she brought the\nbook, her mistress appeared immensely relieved.  So did the handsome\nyoung knight, for, as you may guess, he had been making the most of\nthese moments.  The question which had so troubled him and which he had\nfound time to ask Eva was this,\n\n\"Has your father promised your hand in marriage?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the mischievous Eva; but seeing how cast down her reply made\nthe young man, she added, \"but the bridegroom has not yet been chosen.\"\n\n\"Not chosen?  How can you be promised, else?\"\n\nEva laughed teasingly, but as the maid would soon return she told him in\na few hurried words about the contest of song.\n\n\"It is to be held to-morrow,\" she ended, \"and whoever is declared the\nvictor and Master Singer will also win my hand--so my father says.\"\n\nThe little light in her eyes as she added the last words would have set\nWalter's heart still farther at rest, if he had seen it; but as it was,\nhis first keen anxiety had given way to a yet keener interest in the\ncontest of the morrow.\n\n\"Tell me farther of the singing,\" he said entreatingly; \"for you know I\nmust needs take part in it.  My whole happiness hangs upon the result!\"\n\nEva felt her cheeks grow red.  However the maid had come back for the\nthird time, and she saw no excuse to tarry longer.\n\n\"Magdalen,\" she said, \"this gentleman--one of my father's friends--has\nheard about the song tournament to-morrow.  Can you tell him anything\nabout it?\"  And Eva gave the young man a smile of encouragement and left\nthe church.\n\nNow Magdalen was not so blind as her mistress thought. She had seen the\nknight on other occasions and had liked his face and manner.  \"That's a\ngood match!\" she had whispered within herself.  To-day she had gone back\nto the pew willingly enough, for her mistress wished it. Besides, was\nnot David the sexton back there?  And David was a likely lad himself,\nalbeit he was somewhat awkward.\n\nMagdalen did not tarry long after her mistress.  She gave the knight a\nswift look out of her black eyes and said,\n\n\"There's David--he that's the sexton.  Go ask him about the contest and\ntell him Magdalen sent you. Belike he can tell you all about it.\"  She\nthen curtseyed and hastened after Eva.\n\nWithout more ado the knight went in search of the sexton.  David was\neasily found, for he had seen the handsome stranger talking with\nMagdalen and his own jealous interest had been aroused.  But when Walter\ngreeted him courteously and stated his errand, David grinned and pulled\nat a shock of sandy hair.\n\n\"Oho, my master!\" quoth he, \"so you would thrum a harp with the best of\nthem to-morrow!  But know you the rules?\"\n\n\"No, I do not,\" answered Walter a trifle impatiently, \"and that is what\nI would learn, an it please you.\"\n\n\"Ah, but the rules are the chief thing, good sir!  They are not to be\nlearned in a moment, and they are more important than the song itself.\nNo one can be a Master Singer unless he knows the rules by heart.  I\nhave been learning both cobbling and singing from Hans Sachs, the\nshoemaker, and I do assure you, sir, it is no easy task.\"\n\n\"But can you tell me some of these rules?\" persisted Walter.\n\n\"That can I, as far as I've gone,\" answered David. \"You take your harp\nso, and hold it so, and you thrum a chord with your thumb sticking up in\nthe air like this. Then you thrust one knee out in advance of the other\nuntil you go through your first measure, which must have so many beats\nand pauses.\"\n\n\"But what has that to do with the music?\" cried Walter, almost in\ndespair.\n\n\"Oh, everything, I guess!\" said David; \"only that's about as far as I've\nstudied.  But I'll tell you what to do.  This very day they are going to\nhold an examination here in this chapel.  You stay and apply for\nadmission into the guild.  Then you will see the rules you will have to\nfollow.  Here come the 'prentices now to get the chairs in readiness.\"\n\nAs he spoke a number of young men came in and began pushing a curtained\nplatform out into the middle of the room.  Around it they placed benches\nand chairs.\n\n\"That is the marker's box,\" said David, pointing to the platform.\n\n\"What is it for?\" asked Walter.\n\n\"Why the marker sits inside, while the singing is going on, and marks up\nthe mistakes on a slate.  When a singer has seven marks against him, the\nmarker declares that he is outsung and outdone.\"\n\nThe astonished knight was about to ask other questions when the door\nopened and members of the guild began to arrive.  Among the first were\nHerr Pogner the goldsmith and Sixtus Beckmesser the town clerk.\nBeckmesser was to be marker and his usual sense of importance was much\nincreased by the fact.  He swelled out his thin chest and strutted\ngrandly by the goldsmith's side, telling him of his own aspirations in\nthe coming contest. Beckmesser was bald-headed and a widower who had\nseen the best side of fifty years, yet he felt that Eva would be doing\nwell if she got _him_, especially if his dignity as town clerk was\nheightened by that of Master Singer.  But when he saw Walter step\nforward and greet the goldsmith, who received him kindly, and begin to\nask questions about the contest, Beckmesser's face grew glum, and he\ninwardly resolved that if this young fellow tried to enter as his rival,\nthere would be plenty of marks against him on the marker's slate.\n\nHans Sachs the cobbler and all the other members of the guild now having\ntaken their places, the roll was called by Beckmesser.  Then Herr Pogner\narose and stated the terms of the contest for the ensuing day, and\nrepeated his offer to give his fortune and daughter to the winner of the\nprize.  He continued,\n\n\"It is our purpose this day to enter candidates for the contest.  So I\nhave the pleasure of presenting one who has but now arrived and who\nhands me good letters from friends of mine in the neighbouring state of\nFranconia.  His name is Walter von Stolzen.\"\n\nWalter stood forward, and the members of the guild eyed him solemnly.\n\n\"Who taught you the art of music?\" asked one.\n\n\"Nature has been my teacher,\" answered the young man modestly.  \"I have\nheard her voice in the rustling leaves, the babbling brook, and the\nsinging birds.\"\n\n\"Humph!\" said Beckmesser.  \"But who has taught you the rules?\"\n\n\"I have known very few rules save only such as were taught me by Walter\nvon der Vogelweide.\"\n\n\"A good master!\" said the genial Hans Sachs.\n\n\"But long since dead!  So what could he know of our rules?\" grumbled\nBeckmesser.\n\nAfter further questions and quibbling on the part of the members, they\nagreed to give the knight a trial and judge for themselves.  So\nBeckmesser climbed into his curtained platform with alacrity, and Walter\nwas asked to begin his song.\n\nWalter did so, singing a sweet tender melody of his own, which he had\nundoubtedly composed to the accompaniment of the whispering winds.  For\nwhile it was beautiful and original it paid no attention whatever to the\nartificial rules of the guild.  Before he had sung two measures,\nBeckmesser thrust his head out of the curtain crying,\n\n\"Stop, stop! you are outsung and outdone!\"\n\nAnd the clerk showed a slate covered with marks.\n\n\"You should have let him finish his song,\" said Hans Sachs.  \"For my\npart, I thought it had great merit.\"\n\n\"No one asked for your opinion,\" said the clerk rudely. \"If you do not\nknow more than that about singing, you would better stick to your last\nand finish that pair of shoes you promised me to-morrow.\"\n\nHans Sachs laughed good-naturedly, but insisted that the singer be\nallowed to finish.  Others took up the argument, and Walter finally\nended the song, though amid some confusion.\n\nBut the verdict at the last, given with much solemn shaking of the\nheads, fell like lead upon Walter's hopes.\n\n\"Outsung and outdone!\" they said.\n\nSo Walter was denied membership in the guild, and the chance of winning\nEva's hand seemed slim indeed.\n\n\nThe only member who had been friendly to the young knight was Hans\nSachs.  This jolly cobbler lived just across the street from the\ngoldsmith--his modest shop standing in sharp contrast to Herr Pogner's\nstately mansion.\n\nThat same evening while David the apprentice was keeping shop during his\nmaster's absence, a woman came cautiously out of the side gate of the\nmansion with a basket on her arm, and approached him.\n\n\"Good-evening, David,\" she said.\n\n\"Good-evening, Lena,\" he answered, for it was Magdalen the maid.  \"What\nhave you got in your basket?\"\n\n\"Look and see,\" she said, tipping the lid.\n\nWhat he saw made his eyes grow large.  There were cookies and doughnuts\nand pretzels so tempting that he at once forgot his own late supper.\n\n\"Who are they for?\" he asked.\n\n\"Let me ask you a question first.  How did it go with the young knight\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Why, marry, he was declared outdone and outsung.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?  Didn't you help him and teach him the rules as I told\nyou to?\"\n\n\"Marry, that did I.  But he didn't sing my way and the judges----\"\n\n\"A plague upon you and the judges!\" exclaimed the maid much disturbed.\n\"I will just take my cookies back home.\"  And away she flounced, leaving\nDavid staring open-mouthed at the vanishing dainties.\n\nSome other 'prentices who had been hiding behind the corner no sooner\nsaw David's discomfiture than they raised a shout and began to make all\nmanner of fun at his expense.  They were a merry lot of rogues--these\n'prentices--and lost no chance when their masters' backs were turned to\nget into mischief.  Now as they began to dance around David he lost his\ntemper and, willing to vent his rage upon someone, he fell to fighting\nthe whole crowd.  The noise was becoming uproarious when suddenly a\nstout man with ruddy cheeks strode briskly round the corner.\n\n\"Here you boys!\" he shouted.  \"Be off home, every mother's son of you!\nAnd David, if I catch you fighting out here in the street again, you\nwill have to hunt other shoes to cobble.\"\n\n\"They began it, sir!\" whined David, while the other boys lost no time in\ntaking to their heels.\n\n\"That makes no difference,\" said Hans Sachs.  \"Get in with you and help\nme finish those shoes for Herr Beckmesser.\"\n\nDavid scratched his head ruefully, but obeyed his master; and soon the\nlight streamed out from the little shop, and the cobbler's lusty blows\nwere heard along the street, keeping time to a song of his own making.\n\nAcross the way there was one heart that was much cast down.  Eva had\nlearned from Magdalen the result of Walter's trial, and so she now\napproached her father in regard to the next day's festival.  She did\nnot, of course, mention the knight's name, but she asked about those who\nwere to sing, and timidly suggested that perhaps she need not marry a\nMaster Singer after all, if he did not suit either of them.  But her\nfather seemed more determined than ever, though he could not help\nwondering secretly, if she had heard about the young knight.\n\nAs she left her father, Eva heard the cobbler pounding away, and so she\ndetermined to find out if he knew anything about the contest.  Hans\nSachs had just dismissed his apprentice for the night when Eva tripped\nlightly to the door and looked in.\n\n\"A good-evening to you, old Peg-at-work,\" said she saucily.\n\n\"Why, 'tis my little Eve!\" he exclaimed, his broad face smiling a\nwelcome; for she was a special pet of his.\n\n\"What makes you work so--pound, pound, pound!--so that your neighbours\ncannot sleep?\"\n\n\"I am finishing two pairs of shoes; one for your little feet to wear\nto-morrow at the festival; and the other for the worthy Sixtus\nBeckmesser who aspires to outsing us all.\"\n\n\"Oh, he can't do that, you know!\" said Eva, laughing, but tossing her\nhead uneasily.  \"Before we'd let him do that, you and I, why I would get\nyou to mount the stump and outsing him.  And then just think what a nice\nold husband you would be!\"\n\nHans Sachs laughed heartily at her banter.  He had known her all her\nlife and was used to her ways by now. But he decided to set a trap and\nfind out just where her affections lay.\n\n\"You have already had one narrow escape to-day,\" he said shrewdly.\n\"There was a likely-looking young gallant up before the guild trying to\nsing.  His name was Walter something-or-other, and he wanted to enter\nthe contest to-morrow.  But bless you! he couldn't sing--and it's a good\nthing for you that he couldn't. I'll warrant he's an idle fellow that\nwill never amount to a side of sole-leather!\"\n\n\"What do you know about him?\" burst forth Eva indignantly.  \"I'll\nwarrant your stupid crowd never gave him half a chance to sing.  You\nought to be ashamed of yourselves!\"\n\nBut just then she caught sight of the broad grin upon the cobbler's face\nand realised she was betraying herself. Her cheeks reddened, and she\nturned and fled across the street, while Hans Sachs chuckled in great\nglee over the success of his scheme.\n\nThis was not the only game the shoemaker played that evening, as you\nshall presently see.  For just then Walter came along the street looking\nfor Eva.  He had found opportunity to send word through Magdalen that he\nwas coming, so Eva was on the lookout for him.  But fearful lest her\nfather should see her leaving the house, she had changed dresses with\nher maid; and it was as Magdalen that she now hastened out to join her\nlover.\n\nBut Hans Sachs' keen eyes, right across the way, were not to be\ndeceived.  He recognised both the young people at once; and as they drew\nunder the shade of a linden tree that grew near his door, he was able to\nhear most of their words.  He heard Walter tell Eva of his ill success\nthat day, and how he would not be able to compete on the morrow because\nof a lot of musty old rules.  Walter, in fact, was in despair and he now\nproposed the only way out that seemed possible to him.\n\n\"You must go away with me, dear Eve, this very night,\" he urged.  \"We\nwill get the good minister on the farther side of the town to marry us,\nand I have horses and coach in waiting.  By the time the sun rises on\nthat contest we will be miles away from Nuremberg and nearing my old\nhome in Franconia.  Will you not come?\"\n\nEva hesitated.  She loved her father and did not want to bring him\nsorrow.  But then that odious Beckmesser, or some other man who might\nbecome Master Singer!--Yes, she would go to the ends of the world with\nher dear Walter, she said.\n\nHans Sachs shook his head when he heard this.  These foolish children\nmust be held in check.  So he arose and made as though he were opening\nthe shutter of his door, at the same time setting his lamp in such a way\nthat it threw a broad beam of light across the street. Walter and Eva\nwould have to cross the lighted space, and this he knew they would not\nattempt, lest they should be seen.\n\nThe cobbler was unexpectedly aided in his ruse by the appearance of\nBeckmesser.  The town clerk had decided to serenade Eva in the most\napproved style, by way of proving his devotion and also showing what he\ncould do on the morrow.\n\nWhile the two young people crouched still farther behind the tree,\nBeckmesser struck his harp vigorously and cleared his throat with a loud\nahem! preparatory to launching forth upon his ditty.  But before he\ncould get started, Hans Sachs began pounding again upon his last, whack,\nwhack, whack, whack! to the tune of a hearty cobbling-song.\n\n\"By all the powers!\" groaned the clerk disgustedly. Then he called to\nthe shoemaker, \"Here, you, Hans Sachs!  Don't you know you are\ndisturbing the peace? Why don't you do all your work in the daytime?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm just working a little to-night to finish up that pair of shoes\nyou were so anxious to have to-morrow,\" retorted Hans Sachs; \"and I\nalways sing at my work. It makes it go better.\"\n\nThereupon he began in a louder voice than ever.\n\nBeckmesser was at his wits' end.  He had sent word to Eva that he was\ncoming to serenade her.  Now he was afraid, in his conceit, that she\nwould mistake the cobbler's song for his own.  Just then Magdalen\nappeared at an upper window in Eva's dress.  Beckmesser waved\nfrantically to her and threw a kiss.  Then he turned to the cobbler.\n\n\"I'll tell you what, Hans Sachs, you needn't mind about those shoes,\nto-morrow.  I'm afraid the neighbours will make complaint against you.\"\n\n\"No, indeed,\" replied the cobbler, \"they don't mind about my singing.\nThey say it soothes them.\"\n\n\"Well, speaking of singing,\" persisted the clerk, \"perhaps you would\nlike to hear my new song that I have just composed and intend to sing\nto-morrow.  Shall I go over it for you?\"\n\n\"On one condition, and that is, to allow me to make note of every error\nby tapping upon my shoes.  Thus I can criticise you and get my work done\nat the same time.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said the clerk, and began his song.  But he was so nervous and\nirritated that his mistakes became more and more frequent.  The\ncobbler's taps became hammering, and the hammering a constant\nclattering, while Beckmesser tried in vain to sing against the noise.\nFinally the uproar became so loud that windows were opened all along the\nstreet to see what was the trouble.\n\nDavid was one of the first ones to look out upon the scene.  His jealous\neyes saw Beckmesser singing or rather shouting toward the window where\nMagdalen stood, and his rage was kindled in an instant.  Springing from\nthe window to the ground he seized the unlucky clerk and began to beat\nhim soundly with a cudgel. The other apprentices, always ready for a\nfight, came rushing forth and, taking sides, joined in a general\nfisticuff.\n\nWalter and Eva tried to take advantage of the tumult to effect their\nescape, but Hans Sachs was too quick for them.  Pretending to mistake\nEva for Magdalen he thrust her toward her own home, whose door was just\nthen opened, and Herr Pogner, crying, \"Lena!\" pulled her within and\nclosed the door.  At the same moment, Hans Sachs dragged Walter into his\nown shop just as the sound of the approaching night-watch was heard.  As\nif by magic the street was cleared of brawlers, and when the watchman\nsang in a sonorous voice, \"Ten o'clock and all's well!\" there was\nnothing in sight to dispute his assertion.\n\n\nThe morning of the festival dawned clear and bright. The friendly sun\nstreaming through the open door into the cobbler's shop seemed to give\npromise of a perfect day.  The cobbler was up early for he had a good\nmany singing rules to look over before the time of the contest. While he\nwas busily turning over the pages of a huge book David came sneaking in\nbearing a basket which looked suspiciously like the one his Lena had\ncarried the evening before.  Seating himself in a distant corner he\nbegan to busy himself with its contents, all the while watching his\nmaster with furtive glances.  But Sachs was so intent upon his book that\nhe paid no heed to his apprentice.  This also made David uncomfortable.\nHe thought his master was angry with him for the brawling of the night\nbefore; so he now tried to make his peace by offering some of the\ndainties to the cobbler.  They were good-naturedly refused, Hans Sachs\ntelling the young man to keep them for himself to eat at the festival.\nThen after hearing him sing his morning song, David was given his\nfreedom for the day and joyfully departed.\n\nPresently another person entered the shop, and this time the shoemaker\nlooked up quickly.\n\n\"Why good-morrow, Sir Walter.  Did you sleep well?\" he asked kindly.\n\n\"Aye, what sleep I had was good, and thank you,\" replied the knight.\n\"How was it with you?\"\n\n\"Oh, so, so!  There were so many serenades and lovers' meetings, the\nearly part of the evening, that I lost some of my rest--but not enough\nto hurt.\"\n\nThe young knight smiled at his banter, then remarked,\n\n\"I had a marvellous sweet dream.\"\n\n\"Pray tell it to me.\"\n\n\"I am not able to do that, for it came to me as a song.\"\n\n\"Then sing it,\" urged the cobbler.\n\n\"What is the good of my singing?\" replied Walter moodily.  \"'Tis not for\nme to sing upon this day above all others when my song might have been\nof some service.\"\n\n\"Tut, tut, my friend,\" said Hans Sachs.  \"You must not take things so\nhardly.  We may yet find some way of making one of your songs count.\nNow do you sing me this one and I will mark down the errors in it, and\nshow you why they are errors.  Thus you will soon learn, perchance, how\nto sing a Master Song.\"\n\n\"But that soon will be too late.\"\n\n\"Come let us have the song.\"\n\nSo while the cobbler took paper and pen and prepared to set down the\nwords as well as the mistakes, Walter began to sing:\n\n    \"The morning dawned with rosy light;\n      The scented air--\n      With flowers rare--\n    A vision of beauty rose to my sight;\n      A garden a-gleam\n      This was my dream!\"\n\n\n\"Good, good!\" said Hans Sachs heartily.  \"That is all right.  Now you\nmust be careful to have the next stanza just like that; the same number\nof measures and beats.\"\n\nWalter began again:\n\n    \"There in the garden stood a tree,\n      A wondrous sight\n      Of rich delight:\n    Its boughs full-fruited, wide and free,\n      All golden did seem\n      In this my dream!\"\n\n\n\"Upon my word!\" cried the cobbler delightedly. \"You have got the\nbeginning of a rare good song there! And it conforms to all the rules!\nNow if you will complete it as well as you have begun it, and be careful\nto keep the measures just as I have set them down, you will win the next\ncontest you try.\"\n\n\"But I have forgotten the rest of my dream,\" said Walter.\n\n\"Never mind.  Perhaps it will come to you later,\" replied the cobbler.\n\"You have made a fine start.\"  And giving him a few other suggestions,\nhe then bade his guest come into the living-rooms and don some festival\nfinery.  Walter obeyed, though he felt anything but merry over the\noccasion.\n\nWhile they were absent from the room, who should come in but Beckmesser.\nHis vanity had led him to come after his new shoes, if perchance they\nwere ready; and now seeing that the shop was empty he began to prowl\nabout to see what he might discover.  Soon his eye lighted upon the\nfresh copy of verses which Hans Sachs had left behind on the cobbler's\nbench.  He read them, saw their value, and decided to pocket them to use\nfor himself.  But the cobbler returning just then upset him somewhat,\nand he resolved to brazen it out.\n\n\"I thought you said you were not going to take part in the contest,\"\nsaid the clerk blusteringly.\n\n\"I meant it.  I am not,\" replied Hans Sachs quietly.\n\n\"But I have proof that you are.\"\n\n\"What proof?\"\n\n\"Why, this poem I have found on your bench.\"\n\n\"Hum.  Then how did it get into your pocket?\"\n\n\"That doesn't matter.  You were intending to use it against me,\"\nsputtered Beckmesser, growing more and more red in the face.\n\n\"No, I wasn't going to use it against you.  I repeat, I am not going to\nsing.\"\n\nBeckmesser looked at him a moment in a sly way and then suddenly began\nto wheedle.\n\n\"You and I have always been good friends, Herr Sachs.  I pray you to\nforgive me if I said anything hasty.  I expect I shall need a good many\nshoes this winter.  Now have you any objection to my using this song?\"\n\n\"No, I haven't any objection,\" replied Hans Sachs with a smile.\n\n\"And you won't claim it as yours?\"\n\n\"No, I won't claim it as mine.\"\n\n\"You are a good-hearted friend!\" cried the clerk fairly hugging him in\nhis delight, and then capering out of the door with his verses.\n\n\"And you are an evil-hearted fool!\" said Sachs, looking after him.  \"But\nthe pit you fall into will be of your own digging.\"\n\nThe cobbler knew that the clerk would never be able to find the right\ntune to fit the words, and that he was liable to forget even the words.\nSo he felt no uneasiness when Beckmesser took them away with him.\n\nThe next visitor to his workshop was Eva, looking very winsome in her\nfestival attire of white.  She had come over to see what had become of\nWalter, though she had made another excuse for her errand.\n\n\"Herr Sachs,\" she said, answering his jovial greeting, \"I came over to\nsee what was the matter with one of these shoes you finished for me last\nnight.  It does not feel comfortable.\"\n\nShe placed one small foot upon a rest, and the cobbler knelt to see what\nwas the matter.  But he did not discover it until Walter, dressed in the\nrich garb of a knight, entered the room.\n\n\"Ah, _that_ is where the shoe pinches!\" he exclaimed quietly; and\nwilling to allow the young people a few minutes to themselves he took\noff the shoe and went chuckling to his last, where he began to hammer\nfuriously. But seeing that the two others were rather shy in his\npresence he paused and looked up.\n\n\"Mistress Eve,\" he said, \"I take back what I said about this young man\nnot being able to sing.  He sang me a fine song awhile ago, but the last\npart was lacking. Perhaps he will sing it for you through to the end.\"\n\nThus encouraged and looking Eva in the face Walter began his song again.\nHe sang the first two stanzas just as the cobbler had set them down;\nthen gaining inspiration from his sweetheart's presence he added a\nbeautiful third part filled with the hopes of love and desires of\nfame:--\n\n    \"Lingered the stars in dance of delight\n      And rested there\n      Upon the hair\n    Of a maiden lovely, star-bedight!\n      The light of day\n      Had twofold ray--\n\n    \"Her eyes--bright suns--on me shone down\n      With splendour sweet,\n      In bliss complete\n    I saw her take her heavenly crown--\n      Both Fame and Love\n      Came from above!\n    Ah, blest was I with joy extreme\n      In Love's sweet dream!\"\n\n\n\"Hark, child!\" exclaimed Sachs to Eva, who had been listening as if\nenchanted.  \"That is a true Master Song!  Come, put on your shoe!\nDoesn't it feel better? You don't hear songs like that every day, even\nin Nuremberg!\"\n\nBut Eva was so overcome with her emotions that she leaned her head upon\nthe good shoemaker's shoulder and burst into tears.\n\n\"Tut, tut!\" said he.  \"You know that the song wasn't as bad as all that!\nAnd as for you, master poet, rest easy about the contest!  Just put\nyourself in my hands and we will see if we cannot still show the guild a\nfew points about singing.  Hark you, David!\" (to his apprentice who had\nentered while the song was in progress) \"bear witness with us that this\nis an original song belonging to Sir Walter and to none other.  But you\ncannot bear witness, being an apprentice; so I herewith make you a\njourneyman!\"\n\nHe accompanied these words with a sound slap on the ear, which was the\nquaint custom of releasing apprentices, and David overjoyed thanked him\nand hopped first on one foot and then on the other across the street to\ntell Lena his good fortune.\n\n\nWe will now leave the shoemaker's shop, where so many things have\nhappened, and go with the throng of merrymakers to a broad grassy meadow\nlying just outside of Nuremberg.  The whole town seems to be wending its\nway there, the 'prentices and their lasses, ribbon-decked, dancing on\nahead, the burghers and their wives walking more sedately in the rear.\nThese annual festivals were in fact noted for miles around; and the news\nof Herr Pogner's offer on the present event was bringing record-breaking\ncrowds.\n\n[Illustration: \"Eva leaned her Head upon the good Shoemaker's Shoulder\"\nVictor Prout]\n\nBefore the singing began, a dance was held upon the green.  In and out\nthe merry parties weaved in May-pole fashion until a cry arose, \"The\nMaster Singers!  the Master Singers!\" and everybody fell back\nrespectfully to make way for the members of the guild.  Two by two they\nfiled in, looking very important and taking seats reserved for them upon\na stage.\n\nLast of all came Herr Pogner, with his daughter leaning upon his arm,\nand Hans Sachs and Walter.  You may be sure there were many curious\nglances directed toward the white-robed girl whose hand had been\npromised to the victor of the day, but she bore the ordeal bravely,\nalbeit blushingly.  The handsome knight walking along with the shoemaker\nalso came in for his share of attention, and \"Who can he be?\" was on\nmany lips, especially those of the maidens.\n\nHans Sachs was Master of Ceremonies for the day. He was one of the most\nwidely beloved men in all Nuremberg town; so a hearty cheer went up as\nhe came to the front of the platform to address the throng.  In a neat\nlittle speech he told the purpose of the festival and spoke of the high\nregard in which the occasion had been held in the past.  He spoke of the\nconditions governing the contest, and of the unusual prize offered by\nhis esteemed fellow-townsman and neighbour to the victor of the day. At\nthis there was still louder cheering by the crowd and still more\nblushing on the part of Eva.  When the applause subsided, the speaker\nconcluded his remarks by saying that the contest was now open to anyone,\nand the first singer to present himself would be listened to.\n\nAs Hans Sachs ceased speaking, and the final applause ended, there was a\ntremendous craning of necks to see who would be the first candidate.\nWith a bow and a smirk, Beckmesser lost no time in coming forward.  He\nwas dressed with fantastic care, and as he clambered painfully up the\nsteps to the singer's platform, people nudged one another and smiled.\nOne pert young girl said to another, \"What! that old fool?\" and the\nother replied, \"Wonder what his first wife would think of his capers?\"\n\nHowever, the town clerk did not hear any of these and other comments,\nbut began thrumming the harp he carried, by way of a prelude.  Then he\nlifted up his voice and sang--and such singing!  He had tried at the\nlast moment to adapt a tune of his own to Walter's poem.  The tune did\nnot suit the words, and moreover he had not had time to memorise them\nwell--just as the shrewd cobbler had anticipated.  He stumbled in the\nlines and tried to refresh his memory by looking slyly at the written\ncopy he held in his harp hand.  The result was a strange jumble of poem,\nsong, and sense.  So ludicrous was the ending that the people did not\ntry to keep within bounds, but laughed aloud right in the unlucky\nsinger's face.\n\nBeckmesser was filled with shame and rage at the way his song had ended.\nWilling to put the blame upon someone else if he could, he threw the\npaper at Sachs' feet exclaiming,\n\n\"Well, at anyrate, it was not _my_ song!  There is the man you have been\nridiculing--your dear Hans Sachs!\"\n\nThe cobbler arose and quietly picked up the paper.\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"this song is none of mine.\"\n\n\"Do you deny,\" raged the other, \"that it is your writing and I found it\nin your workshop?\"\n\n\"I do not deny it, but, as I told you, I will not claim it as mine; for\nit is not.\"\n\nThen seeing that the people, as well as Beckmesser, were interested in\nwhat he had to say, he turned to them and told them the true history of\nthe song--how that a young knight had composed and sung it to him only\nthat morning.  He had merely written down the words which had later been\nseized upon by Beckmesser, who had now tried to fit them to a tune of\nhis own.\n\nBeckmesser interrupted him here.  He saw that he himself was standing\nupon very thin ice and it behoved him to bluster it out.\n\n\"A pretty story this!\" he cried.  \"The young knight of whom he speaks\nwas publicly discredited before all our guild only yesterday.  _He_ does\nnot know how to write such a song as I have sung!\"\n\n\"Thank Heaven that he doesn't!\" retorted Sachs, amid general laughter.\nIn a moment he continued, \"Now I crave the indulgence of everyone here\npresent.  You have known me to be just with every man.  All I ask of you\nis to be allowed to prove what I say.  The true owner of this song is\npresent here to-day and desires to sing it in the contest.  Then you\nshall be the judge as to whether it be his or Beckmesser's.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes! let him come forward!\" came an answering shout.\n\nHans Sachs turned and looked inquiringly at the members of the guild.\nThey likewise nodded approval. Indeed, they would hardly have dared do\notherwise, even if they had been so disposed, in the face of the popular\ndesire.  Then the Master of Ceremonies beckoned to Walter, and every eye\nwas fastened upon him while he rose, bowed gracefully and walked toward\nthe stage.  As for Beckmesser he took advantage of the moment to slink\naway without waiting for his rival, and he was not seen again that day!\n\nBefore Walter began his song, Hans Sachs gave the paper to members upon\nthe stage.\n\n\"Masters,\" he said, \"I pray you note well this song--errors and all--and\nsee if it be not indeed a Master Song!\"\n\nDuring the most intense silence Walter opened his lips and began the\nrefrain of the morning.  The first two stanzas were sung even more\nsweetly than he had sung them before, while the third and fourth--not\neven known to the clerk--proved a marvellously fitting close.  As the\nlast notes of the harp died away to the thrill of his rich voice the\naudience, masters, burghers, 'prentices and all, stood for a moment\nspellbound.  Then like the crashing of a mighty wave upon the shore the\napplause broke. They shouted, they cried, they clapped their hands, they\nflung their hats into the air--even the most sedate of them--while their\njoy seemed to know no bounds.\n\nFor the Master Song had been sung! the event to this music-loving people\nwould go down into history.\n\nWhen order was in some measure restored Hans Sachs asked if there was\nanother contestant.  (He did not need to ask the verdict on the song.)\nNo one else presented himself; and Herr Pogner walking forward publicly\ndeclared Walter von Stolzen a Master Singer and made him a member of the\nguild of Nuremberg.\n\n\"Personally, I am proud and delighted to welcome you among us and\nproclaim you victor,\" he said, genially, \"and as to my daughter's hand,\nI leave you to plead your cause with her.  If she proves\nintractable--sing to her. That will win her if anything!\"\n\n\"I have already sung to her, and await my answer,\" said Walter clearly.\n\nHer face radiant with rose-colour, which but set off the sparkling light\nin her eyes, Eva approached her knight and placed the laurel wreath upon\nhis head, as he knelt there on the step before her.\n\nAnd the people?  Once again they fairly eclipsed all their previous\nefforts at applauding.  Finally it ended in a spontaneous note of\nadmiration and love for Hans Sachs who had found this rare singer for\nthem, and made all things come about as they should.\n\n\"Hail, Sachs!  Hans Sachs!  Hail, Nuremberg's beloved Sachs!\" they\ncried.\n\nAnd Eva and Walter, listening with tears of joy, felt that all this sea\nof sound could not express a hundredth part of the gratitude which\nwelled up in their two happy hearts.\n\n\n\n\n                   *Rienzi the Last of the Tribunes*\n\n                               (_Rienzi_)\n\n\nIn the days of Rome's early greatness there were leaders chosen by the\npeople who were called Tribunes.  These Tribunes, though subject to the\npopular will, often had vast power, for they could make laws, declare\nwar, and do other things that few kings, even, have had power to do.\nBut the Tribunes passed away, in the course of centuries, and after the\nmighty Roman Empire had fallen, the people often had no real governing\nhead.  They were the prey of strong enemies without, and of fierce\nquarrels within.  So, you may believe, their lot was not happy, nor\ntheir state prosperous.\n\nAbout the middle of the fourteenth century, Rome had fallen into the\nhands of several nobles, or barons, who fought among themselves and\ncared no whit for the rights of the common people.  Chief among these\nbarons were the rival houses of Orsini and Colonna.  Each maintained\nstrong retinues of armed men and lived in fortified castles; and as\nthere was no real government to hold them in check they became a menace\nto the whole city. Shopkeepers hardly dared to open their places in\nbroad daylight, lest they should be robbed.  Merchants were afraid to\nsend goods from one place to another, lest they should be seized.  And\nthe worst was that women and little children were in continual danger\nfrom the street brawls and sudden excursions of these cruel and lawless\nmen.\n\nSo you may see how desperate was the condition of things at Rome and how\nsadly they needed someone to restore peace and safety.  Even the\nauthority of the Pope was disregarded, and he had to flee for protection\nto the city of Avignon.\n\nBut there was one young man, risen from the ranks of the people, who as\nhe grew up was filled with noble ambition.  He saw the distress of all\nhis fellow-townsmen and he longed to avenge their wrongs and make the\ncity free and prosperous as it was in the olden days.  This desire was\nfinally roused to a fever heat by a sad accident which happened within\nhis own family.  His little brother, a beautiful child with curly hair\nand engaging ways, was playing one day in the open street when a small\ncompany of soldiers belonging to the Orsini house dashed by.  They were\nmet by others of the Colonna faction, and in one of their usual fierce\nfights the little boy was slain.  Yet the young lord who had chanced to\ndo this dreadful thing rode away without a word of regret.\n\nFrom that time forth Rienzi--for that was the name of the people's\nchampion--worked constantly among the people, striving to rouse them to\naction.  His fiery eloquence, his earnestness, and the justice of the\ncause, brought him a constantly increasing band of followers, until at\nlast he had practically all the common people secretly enlisted under\nhis banner and only awaiting the signal to rise against the barons and\nregain their liberties. And the people loved their enthusiastic young\nleader. They were willing to follow him anywhere and give him any title\nhe might see fit to assume.  But he chose the simple name of \"Tribune\"\nin memory of the former Tribunes who had led the people; and his earnest\nprayer was that he might prove worthy of it.\n\nAfter the tragic death of his brother, Rienzi's affections centred in a\nsister, Irene, a fair young girl just reaching womanhood, who was no\nless devoted to her brother than he to her.  A fine picture they made,\nsauntering along some quiet path together, he with his dark hair and\ndreamy eyes, she with her light hair and smile like an imprisoned\nsunbeam.  Rienzi, indeed, was a dreamer and would have liked nothing\nbetter than his books or a stroll like this by the side of a stream, had\nnot the stern call of his country roused him to heroic things.  But the\nfine stuff that dreamers are made of--a trusting confidence in all\nmen--was the one thing which unsuited him for leadership.  This,\nhowever, you will see for yourself as we go on with our story.\n\nWhile Irene was strolling alone one day, she had the misfortune to\nattract the notice of one of the Orsini noblemen.  He fell in love with\nher, but, knowing that she would scorn him, he did not attempt to win\nher in an honourable way.  Instead, he planned to carry her away by\nforce from the shelter of her own home!  This was a wicked and audacious\nthing to do; but the fact that such plots had actually succeeded before\nshows how dreadful were the times when Rienzi lived.\n\nAccordingly, one dark night, an armed band stole quietly along under the\nshadow of the houses until they reached the one where dwelt Rienzi and\nhis sister Irene. They were wise enough to choose a night when Rienzi\nwas absent addressing the people, so Irene was left alone and helpless.\nQuickly placing their scaling-ladders to the windows of the house, they\nsoon broke into it and seized the poor girl.  Despite her frantic\noutcries and appeals for help, they were on the point of carrying her\ndown the ladder and making good their escape, when a lucky intervention\noccurred.  A young man bearing the arms of Colonna dashed up with a band\nof followers. Seeing his ancient foes, he lost no time in attacking them\nat the foot of the ladders.  The Orsini, though taken by surprise,\nfought stoutly, and the noise of the conflict brought many people\nrunning to the scene.  But meanwhile the leader of the Colonna forces\nfound means to rescue the fainting girl and carry her to one side to a\nplace of safety.\n\nAmong those whom the tumult attracted was the Papal Legate.  He came\ninto the midst of the throng and besought them to cease fighting in the\nname of religion and of the church, since they paid no heed to the law.\nBut the nobles laughed at him, and would probably have resumed the\nfight, had not a commanding voice cried out, \"Hold!\"\n\nIt was Rienzi, who had just come.  Addressing the people, who were his\nfollowers, he bade them respect the law; while he prayed the barons also\nto go quietly to their homes.  The people cheered his words and drew\nback.  The barons shrugged their shoulders at this champion of the\npeople, and were fain to continue hostilities, but the company about\nRienzi was now so large that they yielded and sheathed their weapons.\nBut they agreed among themselves to meet on the morrow outside the city\ngates, where they could renew the contest without interruption.\n\nNo sooner had the barons withdrawn than Rienzi's followers began to urge\nhim to do what he had so long been planning--strike a decisive blow\nagainst the barons and make the city free.  Rienzi saw that this would\nbe a good opportunity.  He had heard the barons plan to withdraw outside\nthe city.  Now, when they went forth to fight on the morrow, why not\nclose the gates against them, and not let them in again until they had\nsworn to obey the laws?\n\nSo Rienzi was only too willing to fall in with the popular suggestion,\nfor he perceived that the temper of the people was with him.  In an\nimpassioned speech he begged them to uphold him now; to strike as one\nman for the freedom of the ancient city.  Then he unfolded his plan to\nthem.  The next morning his banner should be unfurled and his trumpet\nshould sound.  Then let every man there present, and every neighbour of\nhis, rally to the standard of liberty and peace!\n\nRienzi's speech was wildly applauded, and a unanimous support was\npledged him.  The crowd then dispersed, and Rienzi had opportunity, for\nthe first time, to learn the cause of the tumult.  He found that the\ngirl who had been rescued was his own sister.  She had recovered from\nher fainting fit and was now leaning against her doorstep, where she was\nbeing tenderly watched over by a young man.\n\n\"Irene!  Adrian!\" exclaimed Rienzi in alarm.\n\n\"All is well, dear brother,\" replied the girl.  \"But had it not been for\nthis chivalrous stranger, I fear it would have been terribly different.\nSome men of Orsini invaded our home and tried to carry me away, when\nthis gentleman interfered.  Our thanks are due to him.\"\n\n\"And they are given in overflowing measure, Adrian!\" said Rienzi,\nextending his hand to the nobleman.  \"We owe you much.\"\n\nAdrian of Colonna, in fact, was a boyhood friend of Rienzi, though\npublic matters and a difference in station had long kept them apart.\nThe nobleman flushed and laughed, declaring that the service was\nnothing.  He was afraid indeed, he said, that the sight of his enemy\nmoved him to battle before ever he saw there was a lovely maiden in\ndistress.  Here he laid his hand upon his heart and bowed gallantly.\n\nMeanwhile, Rienzi was troubled at heart.  Realising that Adrian had\nheard his speech and therefore knew his plans, he feared the cause was\nundone.  He swiftly decided to throw himself upon the generosity of the\nnobleman, whom he knew to be highly honourable, and he therefore asked\nhim, for old friendship's sake, not to reveal anything he had heard that\nnight.\n\nAdrian at first hesitated.  One word from him would put the barons--who\nhad laughed at Rienzi's pretensions and did not suspect his strength--on\ntheir guard.  What should he do?\n\nRienzi saw his hesitancy.  \"It is not alone for myself or my people that\nI ask it,\" he pleaded; \"it is for Rome--the place of our fathers for\ngeneration upon generation. Let us restore the old government and the\nold glory to our country.  Let its cause plead with you!\"\n\n\"And let me also add my word of entreaty,\" said Irene timidly.  \"You\nhave done so much for us already. Can we ask this one thing more?\"\n\n\"I consent!\" said the young man impetuously.  \"For my country--and for\nyou!\"\n\nIrene blushed and her eyes could not conceal the little ray of pleasure\nthat came into them.  The young nobleman saw the gleam and his heart\nbeat with a strange thrill, such as he had never known before.  It\nseemed to him in a moment that he would give all he possessed--houses\nand lands and titles--if he could but call up that glance at his every\ncoming!\n\n\nThe next morning the whole city was early astir.  The barons and their\nadherents had withdrawn to a plain outside the walls as they had agreed.\nRienzi and his followers meanwhile were busied with warlike\npreparations.  Armed men ran hither and thither about the streets\ngreeting other citizens.  And it was seen that whenever a shopkeeper or\ncraftsman was approached, he straightway forsook whatever he was doing\nand hastened to arm himself also and fall in line.\n\nWhen the sun was well up in the heavens the sound of a trumpet was\nheard.  It blew the call of Rienzi; and straightway through the streets\ncame the steady tread of marching feet.  At the head of a large body of\ndetermined-looking men rode Rienzi, clad in the glittering armour of a\nTribune.  Before the great square of the Capitol he turned and addressed\nthe populace telling them to be valiant upon this day and stand for the\nhonour and freedom of their beloved city and for their own security.\nThen giving orders, he posted men at the gates and upon the walls, where\nthey awaited the return of the barons.\n\nIt was really an easy victory.  For when the barons came back wearied\nand weakened by the fighting among themselves, they found the gates so\nsecurely barred and the walls so strongly defended that they were forced\nto make terms.  They agreed to respect the laws and recognise Rienzi as\nTribune, before ever they were allowed to enter or continue to their\nhomes.\n\nYou may be sure this defeat sat ill with the haughty lords who had\ndespised the common people and sneered at their champion.  But they saw\nit would not do to employ force, as they were greatly outnumbered.  So\nthey decided to plot secretly against the Tribune while outwardly they\nbowed to his authority.\n\nAccordingly when Rienzi held his first public audience, a few days\nlater, in the audience-chamber of the Capitol, the barons were present,\nas well as ambassadors from foreign courts and many other dignitaries.\nIt was an imposing assemblage worthy of a king.  Messengers were\ndespatched hither and thither with orders.  Pages stood in waiting.\nHeralds announced each person who had business with the Tribune.\nCouriers, dust-covered, strode in to bring good news; one reported that\nthe brigands had been suppressed; another, that all the roads were safe;\nanother, that peace was an assured fact in all the country round about,\nand people were blessing the new Tribune's rule.\n\nThis news was received with great joy by all the court, with the\nexception of the barons.  They saw in it a death-blow to their own\npower, and knew that so long as the Tribune held sway, the people would\nbe more than a match for them.  So they resolved to lose no time in\nputting Rienzi to death.  That very day they met together--putting aside\ntheir own animosities for the time being--and laid their plans.  Adrian\nwho was present indignantly upbraided them, telling them they were\nbreaking their word; but he was not heeded.  Instead, his own father,\nwho was head of the house of Colonna, asked him if he were going to turn\nagainst them, his own flesh and blood.  Hot words rushed to Adrian's\nlips. He was on the point of replying that his country's welfare came\nfirst; but the barons did not pause to listen. They went in search of\nRienzi, each with a dagger under his cloak.\n\nRienzi had been addressing the people from a gallery in the Capitol,\nwhen of a sudden Adrian ran swiftly from behind a row of pillars and\nwhispered to him,\n\n\"Be on your guard!  There are those who seek your life!\"  Then he darted\naway.\n\nHe did not have time to say more, for the group of conspirators were\neven then drawing near.  They surrounded Rienzi under pretence of asking\nhim some question with regard to the new government.  Then quickly they\ndrew their daggers and each one struck him in turn.\n\nBut the Tribune had been too vigilant for them. Suspecting treachery on\ntheir part he had taken the precaution to don a coat of mail, under his\nrobe of state, and this turned aside all their blows.\n\nThose below who had seen their dastardly attack cried aloud for\nvengeance.\n\n\"Seize them!  Kill them!  Murderers!  Villains!\" resounded on all sides;\nand in a jiffy the gallery was thronged with excited men, led by Cecco a\nburly blacksmith, and the conspirators were disarmed and bound. They\nwere thrown into separate dungeons, and so fierce was the rage against\nthem that they were glad to hear the heavy doors clang, for they had\nbeen afraid of being torn to pieces.\n\nAs it was, their hours seemed numbered, for the people surged about the\nchair of state whereon Rienzi had now taken his seat, and clamoured\nloudly for the execution of the barons.  Rienzi also was justly\nindignant.  He did not care so much for the attack made against his own\nperson as for the barons' total want of honour and disregard of the\nstate's welfare.  He saw that they were working for their own interests\nto the ruin of everyone else, and that the people's new-found liberty\nwould be safer if they were put to death.  So he was about to yield to\nthe popular clamour and sign their death warrant when Adrian and Irene\nentered.\n\nThe young nobleman had realised the serious danger threatening his\nfather and the other barons when their attack failed.  Wishing to save\nhis kindred and friends, although he knew they deserved punishment, he\nhad hastened in search of Irene and begged her to plead with her brother\nfor the prisoners' lives.  This the tender-hearted girl consented to do;\nand they now came to present the petition together.  Falling on their\nknees before Rienzi they begged him to show mercy rather than justice\nand prove the greatness of his high office.\n\nThis was just the sort of petition that appealed to the high-souled\nTribune.  He impulsively tore up the sentence which he was about to\nsign, and calling the people together he addressed them again with that\neloquence of which he was so great a master.  He asked to be allowed to\npardon the barons, as it was him only that they had attacked.  The\npeople gave their consent, though not without murmurs, and the prisoners\nwere then summoned to the throne-room.\n\nRienzi received them in state, and for once they were cowed into\nsubmission.  Indeed, they expected nothing less than sentence of death;\nand if any of them had been in Rienzi's place he would have lost no time\nin pronouncing this sentence.  But as we have before seen, the chief\nfault of Rienzi was too great faith in the promises of other men.  Now\nit led him into the great mistake of his life.  To the utter surprise of\nthe prisoners, the Tribune addressed them in words of kindness and\npardon.\n\n\"Friends,\" he said quietly, \"I have been deeply grieved by the outbreak\nfor which ye are now in chains. As concerns my own life, I care not a\nstraw.  I will gladly offer it up at any moment for the good of my\ncountry.  But in your late attack I cannot but see that ye were aiming\nat my country rather than me.  Ye were violating your words.  Ye were\nbreaking the laws.  If I regarded only the justice of the case and the\nrequests of my people, I should order you to immediate execution; for\nthis ye have deserved.  But the teachings of holy church are that we\nshall temper our deeds with mercy. I have therefore asked the people,\nwhom ye have offended, to forgive you for my sake.  This they will do if\nye renew your allegiance,--promising solemnly upon your honour as\ngentlemen and Christians to respect the laws of the people and my\nauthority as their representative.\"\n\nDuring this speech the barons looked at one another in doubt and\namazement.  Never had they heard its like.  Their whole lives had been\nspent under the principle of \"kill or be killed,\" and the nobility of\nthis young dreamer struck no responsive note in their own breasts.  But\nwhen he ended his speech of pardon with the condition that they take a\nnew oath of allegiance, they saw it was their only hope of escape.  And\nso they all promised, though sullenly and reluctantly, and each one\nresolving in his heart to pay no heed to a promise wrung from him by\nforce of circumstances.\n\nThus you see the Tribune's good deed brought forth no good fruit--only\nevil; for as the prisoners were set free, their faces wore such heavy\nscowls and their teeth set so savagely that the people were filled with\nforeboding and for the first time began to doubt the wisdom of their\nruler.\n\nThe citizens had good cause to be alarmed.  That very night the barons\nsecretly fled from the city, and the next day reports reached the\nmarket-place that they were collecting a large army in the provinces and\nwould soon march against Rienzi to crush him.  The reports were soon\nconfirmed and grew more portentous day by day The people became\nterrified and openly reproached the Tribune for his lack of foresight.\nYet they still clung to him as their leader, and implored him to save\nthem from their enemies.\n\nRienzi went about with calm and cheerful countenance. His very presence\ninspired confidence, and his speeches brought the people flocking to his\nstandard and ready to shed their last drop of blood in the beloved\ncause.\n\nBut there was one, in this troublous time, whose heart was torn with\nconflicting emotions.  Poor Adrian did not know which way to turn.\nLoyalty to his kindred and father's house demanded that he side with the\nbarons.  A new-found devotion to his country and belief in Rienzi urged\nhim to support the people.  And in addition he had become deeply in love\nwith the gentle Irene and felt that she responded to his devotion.  It\nwas indeed a heart-breaking situation for him and one that seemed more\nhopeless as the day of battle grew imminent.\n\nFinally the barons' army drew proudly on the city, and halting before\nthe gates demanded its instant surrender.  The warders shouted back\ndefiance, while from within came the sound of singing and marching men.\nRienzi's forces approached the gates with resolute step keeping time to\na sonorous war-chant.  At their head rode the Tribune, his dark eyes\nflashing with the light of conflict.  But before he could give orders to\nthrow open the gates and meet the enemy on open ground, Adrian sprang\nforward and cast himself before Rienzi's charger.\n\n\"Halt!  I beseech you, O Tribune!\" he cried, while the steed reared and\nits rider drew in the reins sharply.\n\n\"What is the cause of this?\" demanded Rienzi sternly.\n\n\"Let me plead with the barons once more!\" begged Adrian.  \"Perchance\nthey will listen to me, and there will be no need of bloodshed.  Ah, let\nus have an armistice!\"\n\n\"It is too late,\" replied the Tribune.  \"They have shown us that we can\nput no faith in speeches.  Stand aside!  What ho, warders!  Open the\ngates, and let us give these rebels all the fighting they desire!\"\n\nAnd so they did!  While the unfortunate Adrian was brushed aside, the\ngates were unbarred and the two armies rushed together in the shock of\nbattle.  Rome the ancient seat of many fierce struggles never saw one\nmore fierce or deadly than this.  The barons were spurred on by hatred\nand greed.  The people were fighting for their liberties.  And here and\nthere and everywhere the black horse of Rienzi was seen, bearing his\ntriumphant rider into the thickest of the fray.  Rienzi's plume waving\nabove his dark hair was the signal of victory.  Rienzi's clear voice was\nencouragement and conquest.\n\nFinally after fearful slaughter the barons broke and fled.  The Tribune\nhad once again defeated them. Among the heaps of slain was Adrian's\nfather, the head of the house of Colonna.  While the victorious citizens\nburied the dead, they sang praises to their leader, whom they idolised\nmore than ever.  And it did indeed seem that a bright day had dawned for\nRome.\n\nBut though the barons were defeated and dispersed, they had by no means\ngiven up the struggle.  They now tried by underhand means to gain their\nends.  The Emperor of Germany had for some time asserted sovereignty, in\nnominal fashion, over Rome.  To him the barons now appealed saying that\nthe city was in the hands of a dangerous rebel.  They also visited the\nPope at Avignon and artfully persuaded him that Rienzi was a dangerous\nheretic who openly scoffed at all authority. Though the Pope had\nformerly felt compelled to flee from Rome because of the barons, he now\nlistened to their speeches and, strange to say, fell in with their\nplans.  The Emperor also sent orders that his ambassadors were to be\nrecalled.\n\nThis news, reaching Rome, caused a new upheaval in the minds of the\nfickle people.  Many were ready, without delay, to turn against the man\nthey had been worshipping.  Their emotions were still further worked\nupon by some designing demagogues, one being Cecco, the blacksmith we\nhave before noticed.  Cecco and his band thought they could push\nthemselves to power in this general disturbance, and they lost no chance\nof poisoning the ears of the crowd.\n\nFinally, a new leader appeared.  It was none other than Adrian, who,\nfrantic with grief over the death of his father, now publicly announced\nthat he had vowed to slay Rienzi, and called upon the people to help him\nto put down the usurper and tyrant.  And soon the cry arose in this\nstreet and that, \"Down with Rienzi!\"  For the people had forgotten--as\npeople will forget.\n\nBut still there were others who argued stoutly for the Tribune's cause,\nso that words ran high and many citizens did not know what to believe.\n\nIn the midst of the disturbance the great bell of the cathedral rang out\ncalling the people to worship.  A public service of thanksgiving had\nbeen announced in celebration of the great victory; and presently the\nPapal Legate and all his train appeared going to the service.  This made\nthe crowd still more doubtful in their beliefs, though public sentiment\nbegan to veer again toward Rienzi.\n\n\"See!\" they said, \"the Pope himself is helping to celebrate the victory.\nThen surely he has not withdrawn his favour from Rienzi!\"\n\nJust then Rienzi himself appeared, leading his sister by the hand and\nproceeding with firm step to the cathedral.  Adrian was among the throng\nwho saw him pass; but though Adrian had vowed to slay him, and there\nwere many in the press who had been shouting \"Down with Rienzi!\" there\nwas not a finger stirred against him--such was the majesty of his calm\ndemeanour. Adrian himself could not strike this man while he walked hand\nin hand with Irene!\n\nHer face was pale, and her eyes bore traces of suffering as though she\nhad feared for her brother's safety, or sorrowed over another's grief.\nIndeed, she had done both; and if Adrian could have looked upon her\nheart he would have seen a struggle as keen as the one he was\nundergoing; a grief whose reason would have caused him both pain and\njoy.\n\nJust as Irene and Rienzi drew near to the door of the cathedral the\ncrowd saw a startling scene.  The Papal Legate came forth clad in the\nfull regalia of the church and forbade them to enter.  In a loud voice\nhe pronounced a curse upon Rienzi.  He was forbidden to partake of the\nsacrament or have any part in the church's privileges.  All men,\nlikewise, were forbidden to aid him in any way, lest they should incur a\nsimilar penalty.\n\nThis was what was known as excommunication.  It was the severest\npunishment in the power of the church, and was usually directed only\nagainst criminals or desperate characters.\n\nWhen Rienzi heard these unjust and unexpected words, he staggered back\nfilled with amazement and horror. He had not looked for such reward as\nthis for his great services, and he knew not which way to turn.  The\ncitizens on their part shrank away from him as from one smitten with the\nplague.  Meanwhile, Adrian sprang to Irene's side.\n\n\"Come away with me!\" he said gently.  \"The anathema was not directed\nagainst you, and I can conduct you to safety.\"\n\n\"No!\" she cried, clinging the closer to her brother. \"No! where he goes,\nthere will I go!  I will never forsake him or refuse to share his curses\nor his perils!\"\n\n\"But you cannot protect him!  Come while there is yet time!\"\n\n\"No!\" she again exclaimed, and, pressing to Rienzi's side, the brother\nand sister proceeded slowly down the street, while the crowd parted to\nright and left and watched them depart in sullen silence.\n\nThough momentarily crushed by the blow, Rienzi was still undaunted.  He\nbelieved that if he could yet gain the ear of the people he could win\nhis cause with them, and then he would lay it in its true light before\nthe Pope. Now his soul was filled with sorrow instead of anger, and as\nhe went on his way he busied himself with new plans for the city's good.\n\n\"Let us go to the Capitol,\" he said in low tones to his sister.  \"There\non the outer balcony I will address my people.\"\n\n\"No, no, dear brother, let us flee!\" replied Irene. \"Rome has been\nungrateful and you owe her no further service.  I pray you do not tarry\nin her gates!\"\n\n\"And thus proclaim myself guilty?\" answered Rienzi. \"Not so.  Besides,\nwhere could I go?  Rome has been my one passion--my very life!  Without\nher my life would be aimless.  Ah, no! let me lay it down in her\nservice, if she demands it, and it will be given gladly--if only Rome\nmay rise up better for the gift!\"\n\nIrene shook her head sadly but did not remonstrate farther.  In silence\nthey drew near the Capitol and ascended its broad stone steps.  The\nguards on each side saluted the Tribune as he passed.  Once within, he\ngave certain orders to heralds who stood near, and went to an ante-room\nwhere he poured out his very heart in earnest prayer.  But it was not\nfor himself that he prayed; it was for the safety of his beloved Rome.\n\nAnd how were the Romans requiting him?  The news of the excommunication\nran through the city like wildfire, and caused the most intense\nexcitement.  People talked of nothing else.  Cecco and the other\nplotters made the utmost of it, assuring the crowds that Rienzi's many\nsins had found him out, and that he was too dangerous a man to be\nsuffered to live another day.\n\nAdrian, on the contrary, ashamed of his previous part, did all he could\nto turn the tide in favour of the wronged Tribune.  But it was in vain.\nHis own former words were shouted back against him, while the crowds\nthat followed Cecco and the other plotters constantly grew larger and\nmore noisy.  They had heard that the Tribune had taken refuge in the\nCapitol; and to their increasing cry of \"Down with Rienzi!\" was added\nthe still more ominous one of \"Burn the Capitol!\"\n\nFinally Adrian saw that only the most desperate means would save the\nTribune's life; nothing short of instant and secret flight would avail\nhim.  Hastening by side streets, the young nobleman burst into the\nCapitol, where he found Irene guarding the door to her brother's room.\n\n\"Where is Rienzi?\" he said swiftly.  \"We must all flee!  The people are\ncoming with torches to burn the Capitol!\"\n\n\"He is there, but he will not flee,\" she answered; \"and my place is with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Oh, Irene, Irene!  Can you not see that my heart is burning up with\nlove for you?  I have loved you since that night I first saw you in the\nstreet.  Come with me, I beseech you!  We will implore your brother also\nto flee; but if he will not be persuaded, why need you sacrifice\nyourself?\"\n\nThen without waiting for her reply, he dashed past her into the room\nwhere Rienzi knelt in prayer.\n\n\"Come!\" said Adrian, \"the people are approaching to fire the Capitol!\nYou and your sister will be lost, if you do not follow me by a secret\nway which I know. Listen! do you not hear the noise in the streets?\"\n\nThe dull roar was indeed becoming louder and louder; But Rienzi only\nsmiled.\n\n\"I am used to the people and do not fear them,\" he said.  \"But Irene,\nchild, this is no place for you.  I entreat you to go with this good\nfriend.\"\n\nIrene had also entered the room, and now flushed red, but said no word.\n\n\"I have asked her to go with me for always,\" said Adrian.  \"God knows\nhow in this hour of distress I love her and will protect her!  I pray\nyou join your word with mine.\"\n\n\"Do you love this man, sister?\" asked Rienzi gazing at her kindly.\n\nIrene bowed a silent \"yes\" and then burst into tears, clinging to her\nbrother's hand.\n\n\"Then go with him,\" he continued, placing her hand in Adrian's.  \"I,\ntoo, have loved, and the object of my love has been Rome.  As you two\nmust cling to one another now, so must I cling to my unhappy city.  Go!\"\n\nIt was high time.  The advance guard of the mob was already surging into\nthe square.  Without waiting a moment longer Adrian wrung his friend's\nhand and lifted the swooning form of Irene.  Carrying her down a dim\ncorridor and through the secret passage of which he had spoken, he bore\nher speedily to safety.\n\nBut Rienzi!  Faithful to the last to his noble endeavour, the brave\nTribune ascended the open balcony in full view of the people and tried\nto address them.  But Cecco and the other demagogues would not permit\nthis. They were afraid lest his matchless eloquence should once more win\nthe people's hearts.  Hooting and yelling, they picked up great stones\nand hurled them into the balcony where he stood.  Others of the mob\napplied torches to the balcony and other parts of the building. Soon the\nheavy smoke rolled up, and then the bright scorching flame.  The smoke\nshut the dreadful scene from view, but in the light of the fire it again\nstood out clearly.  There, with hands uplifted, Rienzi still sought to\naddress the people.  The splendid dreamer had no thought of flying from\nhis martyrdom.\n\nWith a mighty crash the walls of the Capitol fell in--symbol of the\ndestruction of the government.  Long were the people to mourn their work\nof this day!  A shower of burning embers rose into the sky, then slowly\nsettled back again upon a grey and smoking pile.  It was the tomb of the\nLast of the Tribunes.\n\n\n\n\n                         *The Flying Dutchman*\n\n                      (_Der Fliegende Hollander_)\n\n\nHave you ever seen a full-rigged ship?  What a creature of mystery and\ndelight it is, as it rides at anchor!  It seems to tell of distant\nshores and places far more wonderful than any we have ever seen.  Then,\nas it spreads its broad white wings, it seems a thing of life, awaking\nout of sleep and eager to start again upon its travels.  What majesty\nand beauty are then displayed as it turns and breasts the open\nsea--rising and dipping as though in challenge to its ancient enemy!\n\nOur admiration for the ship is only heightened when we remember that for\ncenturies such craft as this have ploughed the waves.  They have\ndiscovered the uttermost ends of the earth.  They have made all men\nneighbours, one with another,--sharing the fruits of the tropics with\nthe grain of the colder zones.  Ages before steam was put to use,\nsailing vessels much like this of the present time were busy in the\nservice of man.  And they will continue to serve him so long as men \"go\ndown to the sea in ships.\"\n\nSeamen, since the beginning of time, have been a race unto themselves,\nhaving their own mode of life, customs and beliefs.  They believe in\nlucky and unlucky days, signs, clouds, birds, and breezes; and so\ncompletely are they at the mercy of wind and wave, that we cannot marvel\ngreatly at these superstitions.  Above all they believe in an Evil\nSpirit of the sea, who delights to bring harm to mariners, send adverse\nwinds and waves, and drag them down into the depths of the ocean.  This\nSpirit, they say, can change a gentle breeze to a terrific gale in an\ninstant.  He can cause vessels to sink that have no leak.  He can set\nstrange lights ahead and thus lure a crew to dangerous reefs.  Terrible\nis his wrath, also, if any sailor presumes to defy him.  How this wrath\nwas visited upon one reckless seaman is the subject of our present tale.\n\nMany years ago a bold Dutch captain named Vanderdecken sailed the\nSouthern ocean with a picked crew of hardy fellows.  For months he\ntraded in various ports until he grew exceedingly prosperous.  The hold\nof his ship became so heavy with gold that the vessel set deep in the\nwaves.  Then Vanderdecken grew tired of his voyaging.  He pictured to\nhimself the joys of a cosy little home--such as his gold would\nbuy--presided over by a loving wife.  So he set all sail around the Cape\nof Good Hope, eager to reach his beloved Holland and bid the sea\nfarewell.\n\nBut the Cape of Good Hope is ill-named, so mariners say, and it proved\nill hope for Vanderdecken.  A furious storm arose beating him directly\nin the face and keeping his ship from rounding the point of land.  Again\nand again he turned his prow in the teeth of the gale, and tried to tack\nagainst it, but without success.  Finally he became enraged and swore a\nfearful oath that he would sail around the Cape if it took him till\ndoomsday.\n\nThe Evil Spirit heard this oath and laughed maliciously. He resolved to\nhold the captain to his word, and keep him sailing the ocean until the\nend of the world.  So he cast a spell upon the whole crew, by which they\ncould not die and their ship could not sink.  Year in and year out they\nwere compelled to sail wearily without ever reaching their journey's\nend.  The ship grew crazy and worm-eaten, but still never sprang a leak.\nThe sails were kept unharmed through magic, and in the course of time\nthey became red as blood, as though all the life had been drawn from the\nhearts of the ghostly mariners who grew old and grizzled and shrivelled.\nThey came to long for death, but all in vain would they face the gales\nwith all sails set, or steer straight upon the angry reefs.  On and on\nmust they voyage, and but one ray of hope was left them.  Their\ncaptain--who alone kept his youthful look--was told that if he could\nfind a woman who would love him and be faithful until death, the curse\nwould be removed.  Once in every seven years he was permitted to land;\nbut if he found no one to become his wife, he was obliged to set sail\nagain upon his weary voyage.\n\nTime after time Vanderdecken sought for the one who would save him, but\nwithout success.  His strange appearance and the tales told of his\n\"Phantom Ship,\" as it was called, daunted even the bravest.  All the\nmaidens shuddered when he approached, for did not their fathers and\nsweethearts say that of all ill omens this black ship with its blood-red\nsails was the worst?  It was always met in a storm or before some great\ndisaster.  Sailors would cross themselves as they told how it would be\nmet driving furiously before a gale, and how the spectral crew would\nhail them and ask where they were--pretending to have lost both chart\nand compass.  Then they would ask leave to send a package of messages\nand letters home by them; and without waiting for reply, the\nancient-looking sailors would row over in a battered boat, caring naught\nhow high the seas ran.  After they left their letters and rowed back,\nthe Phantom Ship would plunge onward, while the wind whistled through\nits rigging.  The sailors with whom the letters were left would perforce\ntry to deliver them, for though it was deemed unlucky to take them it\nwas still more unlucky to keep or destroy them.  But no one to whom they\nwere addressed was ever found, though often the old parish records would\nshow there had been people of that name two hundred or, maybe, three\nhundred years before.\n\nSo the quest of the Phantom Ship passed into a proverb, and many were\nthe tales told of its captain. He was known far and wide as the Flying\nDutchman, and in the gloom of some gathering storm seamen spoke of\nseeing his pale face peering anxiously over the low prow of his black\nship, seeking a way around the Cape of Good Hope.  While at sunset, when\nthe last rays tinged the dancing waves with ruddy glory, the children on\nthe strand would be shown the Flying Dutchman's blood-red sail.\n\n\nAt the time when our story begins, a fierce storm had been raging in the\nNorth Sea.  To escape its fury a stout Norwegian ship sailed hastily\nbefore the wind into the nearest port and cast anchor.  Its captain, a\nstout weather-beaten man, was provoked at having to do this, as he was\nnearly home and anxious to get there and greet his only daughter, after\na long voyage.  Daland was the captain's name, and Senta that of his\ndaughter.  She had been left motherless when very young, and now lived\nquietly with her old nurse while her father was away upon his voyages.\nSenta was a quiet, dark-eyed girl given much to day dreams on account of\nher somewhat lonely life.  She was devoted to her father, and believed\nin him implicitly.\n\nDaland was not a bad man, but he had one great passion, and that was for\ngold.  His life-long desire was to be rich, and this desire led to his\ntaking long voyages and braving many dangers.  Nevertheless, his money\ndid not accumulate so fast as he wished--does it ever do that?--and\nDaland was often discontented.\n\nHis last voyage had been anything but a success.  His ship had met one\nadverse wind after another, and in two heavy storms it had come so near\nsinking that they were forced to throw overboard some of the cargo.  And\nnow when they were within forty miles of home, another gale sent them\nscudding into the wrong harbour.  It was hard luck, but sailor-like they\nprepared to make the best of it.  Daland allowed all the weary crew to\ngo below and get a good rest.  He himself followed their example,\nleaving only one man at the wheel.\n\nThe air was heavy, as it often is during a thunderstorm, and the dark\nclouds rolled fiercely across the sky. But within the bay the water was\ncomparatively quiet, and the ship rode easily at her anchor.  The gentle\nmotion and still air were too much for the man on lookout, and he, also,\nwent to sleep with his head leaning upon the wheel.\n\nWhile he slept, the storm burst again with increased fury just beyond,\nin the open sea; and out of the teeth of the gale sped another ship\ncoming straight for the same harbour.  The rising waves leaped high on\nall sides of her low black hull, threatening to engulf her.  But if you\ncould have seen the crew at work, you would have noticed that they paid\nno heed to the tempest except to shake their fists, perhaps, in defiance\nof it.  On they came, the wind howling shrilly through the rigging and\ntugging vainly at the bulging sails.  And, marvellous to relate, every\none of these sails was set, as though it had been a clear day instead of\na time to scud with bare poles; and the sails were red as blood!\n\nNot until they had entered harbour and were close alongside Daland's\nship did the crew furl sail or cast anchor.  So quickly and noiselessly\nwas the canvas dropped that the ship rode at anchor before any of the\nother crew were even aware of their approach.  Then a boat was lowered\nfrom the newcomer's side, and the captain entered it and was rowed\nashore.  He was a strange-looking man, with long black hair, heavy\neyebrows, and a hunted expression about the eyes.  His skin was fair,\ndespite his many other evidences of long sailing, and he had a certain\nair of gentleness and sadness which lent him an attractive--almost\nhandsome--appearance. His crew were even stranger in looks, for they all\nseemed to be old men, grey and withered, despite the vigorous strokes\nwith which they sent the longboat flying through the waves.\n\nAs the boat grated upon the sand the captain breathed a great sigh of\nrelief, and leaped ashore without heeding the shallow water between him\nand dry land.  He walked with the stiffness of a man who has long felt\nunder his feet only the rolling decks of a ship.  The first rock he met,\njutting out of the beach, he fell upon his knees and embraced, out of\nvery gladness to be on firm ground!  Then he mounted the crag and looked\nlandward.\n\n\"Seven long years!\" he mused.  \"Thank God, that I am permitted to set\nfoot upon dry land once more!  When will my weary voyaging cease, and I\nbecome free of this fickle ocean?\"\n\nIf was, as you have doubtless guessed, the Flying Dutchman, home on\nanother search for the woman who would release him from his spell.\n\nJust then his musings were cut short by a voice hailing him.  \"Skipper,\nahoy!\" it said.\n\nDaland had awakened out of his slumber and come on deck to find his\nhelmsman asleep and the strange ship anchored close by.  He was both\nstartled and provoked, but seeing the captain on shore he now addressed\nhim through a speaking trumpet.\n\n\"Whence come you?\" he asked, seeing the stranger turn and look at him.\n\nFor answer, the Dutchman made a wide sweep with his arms and then\nbeckoned to Daland.  Something in his manner so aroused the latter's\ncuriosity that he ordered a boat lowered and rowed over to the beach.\n\n\"My name is Daland, a skipper of Norway,\" he said. \"Whence and who are\nyou?\"\n\n\"I am a Dutchman and I have been around the world since I last set foot\nhere,\" answered the stranger in a low voice.\n\n\"I should think you would be glad to come ashore again,\" said Daland.\n\"I am, for I've had a precious rough voyage of it.  Did you meet any\nstorms?\"\n\nThe Dutchman smiled.  \"Nothing but storms,\" he said, \"but my ship will\nweather the best of them.\"\n\n\"What cargo do you carry?\" asked Daland, mindful of his own unlucky\nexperience.\n\n\"Oh, weighty enough; I've been trading in gold and precious stones,\"\nsaid the stranger indifferently.\n\nAn eager look came into Daland's eyes.  \"I should think you would hate\nto throw over any of that!\" he said.\n\n\"There are a good many things I value more highly,\" replied the other.\n\"I have known the time when I would gladly give it all for a little\ncorner of dry land where I might live in peace.\"\n\n\"And I,\" laughed Daland, \"leave my little corner and cruise around the\nworld in search of that same gold.\"\n\nIt was now the stranger's turn to become interested.\n\n\"Do you live near here?\" he asked.\n\n\"Aye, just around the next headland.  There's a cosy hearthstone and\ncheering cup awaiting me there, and I should have been there now, if it\nhad not been for this wretched storm.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it has blown you a little good luck,\" replied the Dutchman;\n\"that is, if you really care for money.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Just this.  I was in earnest, awhile ago, when I said I would give all\nmy gold for a plot of dry land.  My heart is hungry for a bit of home\nlife; and if you will let me be your guest while we are ashore, I shall\nmake you a rich man.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that?\" asked Daland staring at him.\n\n\"I will pay you in advance,\" said the stranger.  And he blew a shrill\nwhistle to his crew and shouted out some orders in a strange tongue.  In\nanswer some of the curious-looking sailors ran down into the hold and\ncame up again bearing a heavy chest which they brought to the strand and\nopened.\n\nThere before Daland's greedy eyes lay revealed a glittering mass of\nprecious stones and fine gold, richer than anything of which he had ever\ndreamed.  His fingers twitched and he fairly gasped with amazement.\n\n\"Gorgeous!\" he exclaimed.  \"You must be the happiest man in the world to\nhave all that!\"\n\n\"_Happy?_\" said the other, in a sad voice.  \"Of what use is this\ntreasure if I have no treasure of the heart--no home, no wife, no family\nties?  For years I have wandered alone, till my soul is weary; and what\nI have longed for, it has been beyond the power of this paltry stuff to\nsupply!\"\n\nAnd the Dutchman snapped his fingers in contempt at the chest.\n\nDaland who was really good of heart was touched by the stranger's words.\n\n\"Come home with me,\" he said.  \"With or without reward you shall have\nthe best my modest table affords, and my daughter Senta shall cook and\nserve it with her own hands.\"\n\n\"Then you have a daughter?\" asked the stranger turning quickly.  \"How\nold is she?\"\n\n\"She is grown now, though I can scarcely think of her save as a little\ngirl.  Winsome is she, as all my neighbours say, and a better girl never\nlived.  My will has been her law ever since her mother died.\"\n\n\"Hark you, man!\" said the stranger, gripping his hand and speaking\nswiftly and earnestly.  \"You must judge me by what you see of me.  But\nif you will promise me your daughter's hand, provided I win her, all\nthat this chest contains shall be yours!\"\n\nDaland looked at the stranger keenly.  His clear-cut face and noble\nbearing told strongly in his favour.\n\n\"She is my only child,\" the Norwegian answered presently, \"but I promise\nto further your suit.  As you are generous, you show me a good and noble\nheart.  Yes, I should be glad to see you my son-in-law.  And were your\nwealth not half as great, I'd not choose another.\"\n\nA glad smile broke over the wandering seaman's face as he heard these\nwords.  And as if in sympathy the sun broke forth from the bank of\nclouds in the western sky, the wind died down and the water grew calm.\n\n\"See! it is to be clear weather, after all!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Yes, we can make the home harbour by nightfall. Come, let us weigh\nanchor and hoist sail!\" said Daland.\n\n\"Lead on, and I will follow you presently.  I have some sails to mend,\"\nreplied the Dutchman.  He well knew that his ship's strange appearance\nand red sails would arouse comment if he entered the harbour before\nnight.\n\n\"So be it!\" agreed Daland; and he went on board ship and ordered all\nsails set.  Before a brisk little breeze his vessel scudded out of\nharbour, while the sailors, delighted with the prospect of soon being at\nhome after their long, rough voyage, sang a rollicking song ending with\nthe shout, \"Hoho!  Halloho!\"\n\nWhile her father's ship was nearing harbour that afternoon, Senta was in\nthe midst of a merry group at her home.  Several of her girl friends had\ncome to pay her a visit, and, according to the quaint Norwegian custom,\nthey had brought their spinning-wheels with them so that they might not\nbe idle during the daylight hours.  Now the wheels whirred and the\nmaidens chattered at a lively rate.  But strange to say, Senta was the\nidlest of the lot. Her hands would fall into her lap, and her gaze would\nwander into space.  She was indeed a lovely picture as she sat thus, her\ngreat dark eyes glowing and the rich colour coming and going in her\ncheeks, called up by the romantic visions she saw.\n\n\"What, dreaming again, Senta?\" exclaimed her old nurse and housekeeper,\nMaria, entering at one of these idle moments.  \"You are setting your\nvisitors a fine example!  And what if your father should come home and\nsee you dawdling thus?\"\n\nSenta flushed, smiled, and took up her flax.  The other girls laughed\nmischievously.\n\n\"You oughtn't to have told her that old ballad, Maria!\" they said.  \"Now\nshe can't get her mind off the Flying Dutchman.  She sits here and gazes\nat his picture by the hour.\"\n\nThere was indeed an old print supposed to be a likeness of the wandering\nseaman, on the wall.  It had been picked up with many other curious\nthings by Daland upon his travels; and Maria who knew a ballad telling\nof the Dutchman's weary search for a wife had recited it to them. The\nstory was just of the sort to attract Senta.\n\n\"'Tis strange,\" she murmured, as though speaking to herself, \"strange\nthat the poor Flying Dutchman is doomed to sail on forever, because he\ncan find no one who will love him till death!  Are we maidens, then, all\nso fickle and heartless?\"\n\n\"No, we are not heartless, at anyrate!\" laughed one of the girls.  \"But\nwho wants to wed the captain of a Phantom Ship that comes to port only\nonce in seven years?\"\n\n\"And who will outlive you, and marry someone else, a hundred years from\nnow?\" chimed in another.\n\n\"No, no!\" said Senta; \"that would be because you did not love him!\"\n\n\"But who _could_ love him--a ghost like that?  Ugh!\" said a third.\n\n\"_I_ could!\" exclaimed Senta, her fine eyes flashing. \"If I knew that I\ncould save him, I would devote myself to him gladly!\"\n\n\"Oh, Senta!  What are you saying!\" cried the girls in a chorus.\n\n\"You forget Erik!\" said one.\n\nErik was a young hunter who lived in the mountains, and who was devoted\nin his attentions to Senta.  She had always liked him, having grown up\nwith him, but she had not given him all her love.\n\n\"No, I do not forget Erik,\" she said stoutly, \"but he is not the Flying\nDutchman.\"\n\n\"Nor do I want to be!\" exclaimed a hearty voice, as Erik himself burst\ninto the room.  \"What is this I hear, Senta?  Be careful, or I shall\ngrow jealous even of the Flying Dutchman!\"\n\nHe greeted the visitors, and then continued: \"But I just ran in to tell\nyou that I sighted your father's ship rounding the headland, and back of\nit some distance is another vessel.  Doubtless your father is bringing\nguests with him, so you had better tell the good Maria to bestir\nherself.\"\n\nSenta jumped up and clapped her hands at the news of her father's\nreturn.  Instantly the whole room was in confusion.  The spinning-wheels\nwere quickly set aside, and the maidens helped to bring the long table\nto the centre of the room and set it for the expected company. Then they\nhastily gathered up their belongings and bade their hostess good-day,\nleaving her alone with Erik.\n\n\"What was this I heard about the Flying Dutchman, Senta?\" he asked in a\ntender voice.\n\n\"I was just expressing pity for his lonely lot,\" she answered.\n\n\"Doesn't _my_ loneliness awaken any pity, then?\"\n\n\"You do not deserve so much sympathy,\" she said lightly.  \"You are young\nand strong and--well, almost any of the girls here to-day would show you\nsome interest. But the poor wandering seaman is compelled to sail on\ntill doomsday because nobody cares.\"\n\n\"Come, come, Senta, you must be jesting!\" said the hunter growing pale.\n\"You surely cannot place this spectre ahead of all of us flesh-and-blood\npeople in your regard!\"\n\n\"Why does the thought alarm you so?\" she said evasively.\n\n\"Because of a dream I had.  It was so real that I have been able to\nthink of nothing else all day.\"\n\n\"Was it about--_him_?\"\n\n\"Yes, it was about the Flying Dutchman.  I dreamed that your father came\nhome from sea, bringing with him a mysterious stranger whom no one knew\nanything about, except that he was very wealthy.  He was tall and gaunt,\nwith pale face, flowing black hair and eager-looking eyes. As soon as he\nsaw you he could not keep these eyes off of you, and he asked for your\nhand in marriage.\"\n\n\"And I consented?\" asked Senta breathlessly.\n\n\"Oh, Senta!  Yes, you left me at once and went with him.  I followed you\ndown to the beach imploring you to stay.  But the stranger took you on\nboard his ship, and hoisted a blood-red sail.  You were gone with the\nFlying Dutchman--lost--lost forever!\"\n\n\"No, not lost!\" she cried.  \"It was a vision!  It was my destiny!\"\n\n\"Senta, Senta!\" cried Erik almost beside himself with grief; and unable\nto control his emotion longer he rushed from the house.\n\nAnd then--as if in answer to the dream, Senta thought--presently the\ndoor opened and her father came in, and with him--the stranger!  He was\nlike Erik's description, even like the old print that hung upon the\nwall; and as he directed his gentle blue eyes to her face, Senta knew\ninstinctively that this was none other than the Flying Dutchman himself.\n\nSpringing to meet her father, she hid her face upon his shoulder and\nburst into tears.  Daland kissed her and patted her upon the cheek.\n\n\"There, little daughter!\" he said.  \"Have you really missed your old\ndaddy while he was away?  Well, he has missed you, too.  But you are\nforgetting your manners.  You have not yet greeted our guest.\"\n\nSenta had by this time regained some of her composure, and she now\nturned to the visitor and greeted him, but in a cold, constrained voice.\nShe was in reality holding herself in check, for her whole heart went\nout to him.\n\nBut her father thought, \"She is cold, the little minx! I must tell her\nmy wishes in this matter, and hint about the chest of gold.\"  The\nfoolish old captain measured everything by gold--even his daughter's\naffection, but this only showed how little he understood her.\n\nSo, while the evening meal was being prepared and the stranger had been\nshown to his room to make himself ready, Daland took his daughter aside\nand told her what little he knew of the stranger; that he had been a\nwanderer without kith or kin; and that he had immense wealth and was now\ndesirous of settling down and having a home of his own.\n\n\"He has asked me to receive him as a guest,\" Daland concluded; \"and he\nhas also obtained my permission to sue for your hand.  Will you be\nobedient to my wish in this as heretofore, and consent to become his\nwife?\"\n\n\"I will give my answer to him, father,\" she replied quietly, \"after I\nlearn from his own lips how much or little he needs me.\"\n\nDaland was fain to be content with this reply, but something in his\ndaughter's tone reassured him, and he wisely decided not to press the\nmatter further until the stranger had been given the chance to urge his\nown case.\n\nThere was an air of constraint about the evening meal, despite the\nhost's attempts to be jovial after his long absence.  'Tis true Senta\ngave a willing ear to the story of his voyage, and asked questions from\ntime to time which showed how anxious she had been for his welfare while\nhe was away.  But the guest courteously evaded all inquiries about his\nown wanderings, and though he strove to be agreeable, it was plain to\nsee that he was long unaccustomed to quiet home life such as this.\n\nFinally the supper was over, and Daland, saying that he had business\nthat evening in the village, left Senta and the stranger alone.\n\nThen the girl, with an almost bursting heart, heard her visitor cross\nthe room slowly and come to her side.\n\n[Illustration: \"'Senta!' he said, 'look at me'\"\nVictor Prout]\n\n\"Senta!\" he said--and there was both authority and entreaty in his low\ntone--\"look at me!\"\n\nShe raised her eyes and met his gaze unflinchingly; and in that glance\neach saw the soul of the other laid bare and knew that each was beloved.\n\n\"Senta,\" he continued, taking her hand, \"I am a plain, rough man of the\nsea, and know not how to mend my speech for gentle ears like yours.  But\nfrom the first moment I saw you, I loved you.  And your father has\nalready given his consent to my suit.  What is your answer?  Do I read\nyour eyes aright?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered simply; \"it was Fate that brought you to me.\"\n\nThe seaman felt a great wave of joy rush over him. He was loved!\nFreedom from the Evil Spirit was within his grasp!  Then for the first\ntime he realised how much he was asking of this innocent young girl.  A\ncurse was hanging over him; how could he ask one he loved to share it?\n\n\"Stay!\" he said, gently releasing her hand, \"I have no right to obtain\nyour promise thus.  You do not know who I am.\"\n\nA bright smile broke over Senta's face.\n\n\"Ah, but I do!\" she exclaimed.\n\n\"What!  Is it possible that you know I am a wretched wanderer over the\nearth----\"\n\n\"You have been,\" she said.\n\n\"That men look upon me with superstition and dread----\"\n\n\"We will change all that.\"\n\n\"In short, that a curse is upon me?  Hear me out!\"  (He raised his hand,\nas she was about to speak again.)  \"Hear me out, and then send me forth\ninto the night, where I belong!  I sought you selfishly to-day, to\nobtain your aid in the lifting of this curse, of which I speak. The Evil\nOne has decreed that I shall wander forever, unless some true woman\ngives me her love and remains faithful until death.  If her faith in me\nshould waver, the curse would descend upon her also.  Before I had even\nseen you, I asked your father for you, and was willing to sacrifice you\nto my own selfish ends.  I thought not at all of what I asked of _you_!\nI see now how selfish I was, and I release you.  Will you not dismiss\nme, as I deserve? I shall remember you only with gratitude for the\nglimpse I have had of your brave heart.\"\n\n\"But do you not love me?\" asked Senta.\n\n\"It is just because I do love you that I cannot ask this sacrifice,\" he\nreplied, his pale face showing the struggle through which he passed.\n\n\"Then this is my answer.  Here is my hand; my heart goes with it, and\neven to death will I be faithful!\"\n\n\"She gives her hand, and promises to be faithful till death!\" exclaimed\nthe Dutchman, shaking his fist as if at some unseen foe.  \"Dost thou\nhear this--dread Spirit?  I am free, and I defy thee!\"\n\nAnd falling upon his knees he pressed her hands again and again to his\nlips.\n\nJust at this moment Daland reentered the room, and was overjoyed at the\nturn of affairs.  He gave the two his blessing, saying,\n\n\"To-morrow I give a feast to my sailors, according to custom; and with\nyour permission I shall announce your betrothal at once.\"\n\n\nThe next day dawned bright and clear.  On board the Norwegian ship all\nwas bustle and activity.  The sailors were dressing it in its finest\npennants and colours, making it ready for the visit of the townspeople\nand for the feast. All was noise and laughter and song, for they were as\ndelighted as schoolboys when the long-looked-for vacation has come.\n\nBut on board the Dutch vessel everything was as quiet as the grave.  No\none was seen stirring above decks, and not a flag fluttered except a\nsingle tiny one which told that the captain was gone upon shore.\n\nThen a group of laughing girls came down to the beach.  Most of them we\nhave already seen at Senta's house.  They brought great baskets of fruit\nand dainties to the sailors and when Daland's crew saw this treat they\nlost no time in coming on shore. But still the Dutchman's black ship\ngave no sign of life.\n\n\"What is the matter with your fellow-voyagers?\" asked the maidens.\n\n\"No fellows of ours,\" answered the Norwegians, \"we never saw them until\nyesterday, and they haven't budged since they cast anchor last night.\"\n\n\"Hey, sleepy-heads!\" called out the girls tauntingly. \"Come out and be\nsociable!\"\n\n\"You sleep like land-lubbers!\" called a sailor.\n\nBut no answer came back.\n\n\"Let them alone,\" said another sailor; \"if they don't care for good\nthings to eat and drink, there will be just that much more for us.\"\n\n\"Greedy fellows!\" laughed the girls.\n\n\"Well, if I was as old and grizzled as that greybeard crew yonder,\" said\nthe one who had just spoken, \"I wouldn't care for feasts either--nor yet\nfor pretty girls.\"  Here he gave a sly glance around.\n\n\"They look like the crew of the Phantom Ship,\" said another laughing.\nAnd lifting his voice he called; \"Ho there, old black ship!  What has\nbecome of the Flying Dutchman?\"\n\nAt this call a cold wind swept along the shore, so that all the\nmerrymakers shuddered, and a nameless dread seized them.  Then a strange\nthing happened.  The waves in the harbour remained calm, while just\naround the black ship they rose and tossed angrily as though in a\nviolent storm.  It grew dark, the wind howled through the rigging, and\nweird blue lights played about the mastheads.  In the midst of the\nminiature tempest, the ship's crew appeared and began to hoist sail as\nthough preparing to depart; and as they worked they sang a dirge-like\nsong that told of the Flying Dutchman and his seven year quest.  He was\neven now in search of the wife that would save them all, they sang.\n\nThis scene was too much for the merrymakers.  The panic-stricken maidens\nfled in every direction, while the sailors seized with superstitious\nfear hastened to their ship and ran below, making the sign of the cross.\n\nAt sight of the panic, the strange crew burst into wild laughter, and\nthe storm subsided as quickly as it had arisen, leaving the blue sky and\nclear water as before.\n\nJust then the door of Daland's house opened, and Senta appeared and came\ndown to the beach.  She was followed by the hunter Erik, who had come to\nplead his cause once again.  He could not bring himself to believe that\nhis dream was coming true, and that Senta had plighted herself to the\nmysterious stranger, as he had just heard.  He reminded her of their\nlifelong comradeship, and how he had, even as a little boy, claimed her\nas his future wife.\n\n\"Indeed you do belong to me!\" he exclaimed, carried away by his emotion.\n\"You gave me your heart--you know you did!  Now you cannot take it away\nand give it to a stranger!\"\n\n\"Oh, Erik! you misjudge me!\" Senta replied, wounded deeply by his words.\nAnd sorry for his evident distress she tried to comfort him with\nsympathy and tenderness.  She could not bear to see her old playmate\nsuffer, or have him think badly of her.\n\nHer attitude, however, was misunderstood by a third person who had\napproached unnoticed.  It was the Flying Dutchman.  He now believed that\nSenta was already regretting her promise to him, and with a wild,\ndespairing cry of \"Lost!  All lost!\" he sprang down the beach and\nprepared to take boat for his ship.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" asked Senta, hastening towards him.\n\n\"Farewell, Senta!\" he cried.  \"To sea, to sea, till time is ended!  I\nrelease you from your promise!  It is the only way I can save you from\nmy fate!\"\n\n\"Ah, do not go!\" implored Senta.  \"I will not take back my word.  I love\nyou, love you!  I knew you from the first moment I saw you, and\nwheresoever you go, there will I go!\"\n\n\"Think what you are saying, Senta!\" exclaimed Erik trying to restrain\nher.  \"They say that he and his ship are bewitched!\"\n\n\"I care not for that!  My place is by his side!\" she said, struggling to\nfree herself.\n\n\"Be advised by your friend,\" said the seaman, who had mastered his own\nemotion in some measure.  \"I am indeed under a spell.  Ask any mariner\nwho sails the seas, and he will tell you, with a shudder, to beware of\nthe Flying Dutchman!\"\n\nBut Senta did not shrink back as he expected.  Instead she stretched out\nher arms triumphantly, crying, \"Ah, I told you I knew you!  Now you\ncannot go and leave me!  I will save you in spite of yourself!\"\n\nNevertheless the Dutchman turned away as though pushed forward by some\nunseen power.\n\n\"No! 'tis I who must save you!\" he exclaimed.  And going aboard his ship\nhastily he blew his whistle and ordered the ship to be got under way.\n\nIt had grown dark again, but through the gloom the blood-red sails\nglowed like a flame, while a strange signal-light burned in the prow,\nand the waves lapped eagerly about the bow as it began to move forward.\n\nWith a shriek Senta endeavoured to follow, but Erik and her father, who\nhad just run up with other villagers, held her back.  The Phantom Ship\nwas now fast leaving the harbour and directing its course to the\nheadland, when Senta by a quick movement wrenched herself free and fled\nswiftly along the shore to the jutting point of rock.\n\n[Illustration: \"She flung herself from the Cliff into the raging Sea\"\nG. Rochegrosse\nReproduction authorised by the publishers, A. Durand et Fils, Paris]\n\n\"Senta, you are beside yourself!\" the others cried, trying to follow\nher.  But she outdistanced them all, leaping over boulders and across\nchasms in her flight, till she had reached the headland.  The Phantom\nShip was close beneath her in the seething spray.\n\n\"Senta!\" cried Erik, hastening to the point of rock where she stood.\n\nBut she did not heed him.  Instead, she stretched out her arms once more\nto the pale-faced man, standing in the prow of the oncoming vessel.\n\n\"Here stand I, faithful even unto death!\" she exclaimed, a heroic light\nshining in her dark eyes.  \"Give thanks to heaven that one way was left\nfor your salvation!\"\n\nWith this she flung herself from the cliff into the raging sea.  And\ninstantly--wonder on wonder!--the waves grew calm.  One last leap they\ngave as she touched them, and the Phantom Ship and all in it sank as she\ndisappeared from view.  But to the watchers on the shore a beautiful\npicture was given, which sent them their separate ways with peace in\ntheir hearts.\n\nAbove the spot where the Phantom Ship had gone down, never to be seen\nagain, a rosy light hovered, making as it were a path leading straight\nthrough the bursting clouds to the bright sky beyond.  And in this glory\ntwo figures were seen hovering, locked in each other's arms and rising\nupward.  They were the radiant spirits of Senta and the lover she had\nsaved.  The Flying Dutchman's voyages were ended; the curse was lifted\nfrom him for evermore.\n\n\n\n\n                          *Tristan and Isolde*\n\n                         (_Tristan und Isolde_)\n\n\nIt will be interesting to compare this story with the version by Malory.\nThe differences are characteristic of the distance between the colder\nideals of Malory and the warmer and more human age of Wagner.\n\n\nOnce upon a time a brave knight of Brittany went across the English\nChannel to the court of King Mark of Cornwall.  The knight was noted for\nhis valiant deeds, so the King was right glad to welcome him and attach\nhim to his retinue.  The knight also was willing to tarry, for the King\nhad a sister who because of her beauty was called the \"White Lily.\"\nIndeed, the knight had fallen deeply in love with this fair Princess,\nand so he was overjoyed when at length he found that his love was\nreturned.  He obtained the King's consent to make her his wife; and\nafter a splendid ceremony the knight and his lady set sail for their\ncastle in Brittany.  Fate had so smiled upon them, that they thought\nthemselves the happiest people in the whole world, and that none had\nbeen so favoured as they.\n\nBut after a few short months of wedded life the knight fell sick and\ndied.  The poor bride was broken-hearted, and although a little boy was\npresently given to her, the child did not assuage her grief.  Instead he\nreminded her constantly of the husband she had lost.  She called the\nboy's name Tristan, which means \"sadness.\"\n\nRealising that she would soon follow her beloved husband she entrusted\nthe boy to a trusty knight, Kurneval by name, to be taken over to her\nbrother in Cornwall.  Shortly afterward she died, and the little orphan\nwas conveyed to his uncle as the mother had desired.\n\nKing Mark was without wife or children of his own, so he gladly received\nTristan into his lonely home.  He brought him up as his own son, and\npublicly proclaimed him heir to the throne of Cornwall.\n\nTristan grew rapidly in beauty and strength, finding so especial a\ndelight in horsemanship and knightly warfare, that by the time he was\nfifteen he could joust with the best of the knights.  Courteous in\nspeech and bearing was he, likewise, for he had been carefully trained\nby the knight Kurneval.  And so, when the time of his knighting had\narrived, Sir Tristan was already famed for his chivalry and prowess\nalike.  His name became a proverb for true knighthood, and there was no\nman in Cornwall who could stand against him.\n\nA few years before this time, King Mark had been defeated in battle by\nthe King of Ireland, and had promised to pay him a yearly tribute.  Each\nyear since that defeat the tribute had been collected by Sir Morold a\ngigantic knight whom all men feared because of his courage and cruelty.\nHis demands grew heavier, year by year, until at last they became so\ngreat that the whole country groaned.  Thus it went on until Tristan had\nbecome a knight, when eager for some splendid service to prove his\nspurs, he resolved to put an end to this oppression.  So he challenged\nthe huge warrior to mortal combat.\n\nThe challenge was promptly accepted, Morold liking nothing better than a\nfight, though--as he expressed it--he greatly feared this rash youth\nwould not last long enough to get his blood warm.  King Mark also was\nfearful of the fate of his foster-son, but the word had gone forth and\ncould not be withdrawn.\n\nThe day came for the conflict, and many anxious spectators assembled to\nwatch the champions fight--the one for the honour of Ireland, the other\nfor the freedom of Cornwall.  But Morold did not enter the lists fairly.\nEnraged that any one should presume to oppose him, he bore a poisoned\nspear which he flung at Tristan without warning.  It made a slight wound\nwhich was unnoticed in the heat of the conflict that immediately began.\n\nThe young knight sprang forward with sword drawn and met his towering\nopponent fiercely but with the most finished skill.  Morold soon found\nthat he had met more than his match at sword play, and he tried by his\nsuperior strength to beat down his antagonist.  But in this also he was\ndefeated, after a thrilling contest.  At last growing rash he raised his\nsword and brought it about with a terrific swish that would certainly\nhave cut Tristan in two, if he had not leaped nimbly backward.  Before\nthe Irish knight could recover himself, Tristan sprang forward again and\nby one swift stroke cut his head from his body.\n\nCornwall was now free, and instead of sending his yearly tribute, King\nMark sent the head of Morold back to Ireland to show this freedom for\nall time to come. Now Morold had been betrothed to an Irish Princess\nnamed Isolde; and when his severed head was received at court, she swore\nbitter vengeance against the one who had done this deed.  Looking\nclosely at the head, she chanced to find a bit of sword-point sticking\nin the skull, and she knew this must have been broken from the weapon\nwhich had done the deed.  So she kept the sword-point carefully by her,\nin the hope that it might lead her to find her enemy.\n\nMeanwhile Tristan, though showered with praises from the court and\npeople he had delivered, was faring but ill. The wound from the poisoned\nspear refused to heal.  The best physicians of the country were called\nin, but the wound only grew more grievous and painful, day by day.\nFinally, when Tristan was beginning to despair of his life, an old\nsoothsayer told him to go to the land whence the wound was received and\nthere he would find an antidote for the poison.  So Tristan set forth\nwithout delay; but knowing that it would not be safe for him to travel\nin Ireland under his own name, he went alone as Tantris a wandering\nminstrel.\n\nThe fame of Isolde's skill in mixing draughts and potions presently\nreached his ears, and he directed his steps to the court.  Both Isolde's\nmother and maid-servant knew the secrets of drugs and they had taught\nher many of these arts.  So when a poor minstrel came to her attention,\nsuffering from a poisoned wound, both her sympathy and skill were\nenlisted, and all the more because he seemed of noble bearing, and his\neyes sought hers in an appealing way.\n\nSo Isolde called in her maid and they undertook to heal Tristan of his\nwound, applying many balsams and soothing herbs.  It was a long time,\nhowever, before even their skill availed and the harper began to rally\nfrom his illness.\n\nIt chanced one day while he slept, that Isolde sat by his side watching\nthe progress of his fever.  And as she sat there she happened to notice\nthe beauty of his sword-hilt, and wishing to examine it closely she drew\nthe sword from its scabbard.  Suddenly she saw that a piece was missing\nfrom the point.  A thought occurred to her that made the blood rush to\nher head.  She hastened to the place where she had concealed the broken\npiece, and placed it in the gap.  It fitted exactly.  She had been\nnursing her sworn enemy!\n\nJust then Tristan called to her, and she turned and went to his bedside\nwith the blade uplifted ready to strike. Neither spoke, but he read her\npurpose to slay him in her face and action; yet he did not flinch.  He\nmerely looked up sadly and tenderly with those eyes which she had found\nit so hard to resist, the first time she ever saw him. And instantly,\nshe knew not why, the sword fell from her hand clashing upon the floor.\n\nAfter that she continued to nurse him more tenderly than ever, but\nwithout either of them saying a word about the incident.  Her care and\nskill were rewarded, and at last Tristan was wholly recovered and ready\nto set sail for home.  Still he did not speak to the Princess of the\nstrange new feeling that possessed him, for he thought that only pity on\nher part, for his defenceless state, had saved his life on that day when\nshe guessed the truth. He contented himself with thanking her in the\nbest phrases his oddly faltering tongue could repeat; begged permission\nto kiss her hand in token of the gratitude he could not utter; and asked\nleave to return upon some future day.\n\n[Illustration: \"Suddenly she saw that a Piece was missing from the\nPoint\"\nVictor Prout]\n\nWhen he had come to the court of Cornwall, he found the King overjoyed\nto see him, for he had given him up as dead.  To the King and court he\nrelated his adventures, praising without stint the beauty and kindness\nof the Princess Isolde.  Indeed he spoke with such youthful enthusiasm\nthat it unwittingly set his hearers to thinking. Some of the courtiers\nhad long been jealous of Tristan and wished to keep him from the throne.\nThey had been trying to persuade the King to seek a wife and thus\nprovide a son of his own for the kingdom.  Now they urged him to ask for\nthe hand of the Princess Isolde.  It would cement the peace of the two\nkingdoms, they said, and from all accounts she was indeed worthy to be\nhis Queen.\n\nKing Mark pondered long over this advice, and asked many questions of\nthe unsuspecting Tristan; and the more the monarch thought of it, the\nmore the picture of Isolde filled his fancy.  Finally he decided to send\na formal request for her hand; and as Tristan was familiar with the\nIrish court he was entrusted with the embassy.\n\nThe request of the King sent a sudden chill through Tristan's heart.  He\nrealised all at once how much Isolde meant to him.  But his uncle had\nbeen a father to him, and he could not requite his kindness in any other\nway than by obedience.  So he gave no outward sign, and prepared to\nexecute his hard task.\n\nWhen messengers came to Isolde and told her that Sir Tristan was come to\nseek audience with her, her heart leaped for joy.  Surely, she thought,\nhe had come in his own proper guise, as he promised, to say the things\nhe dared not utter when he went away.  So she hastened to greet him and\nshow him all graciousness.  But when she learned the truth of his\nerrand, her new hopes were dashed.  Anger and pride took their place,\nthat she should be rejected by this man whom she had cared for--and\npardoned despite her oath of vengeance!  But hiding her emotions she\ninstantly resolved to go to King Mark and become his Queen, without\nletting the world--least of all, Sir Tristan--know how she suffered.\n\nTo the King and Queen of Ireland the news of the embassy was welcome.\nThey had become weary of the feud with Cornwall and were glad to\nconclude the peace and ally their house with that of King Mark.  They\nreceived the ambassador, therefore, with every sign of honour, and held\nfeasting and revelry until he should conduct the Princess to his ship.\n\nBut through it all Isolde remained cold and silent. Her conduct alarmed\nher mother, who wished her to be contented in the new home she was\nentering.  So the Queen brewed a powerful love potion which she\nentrusted to Isolde's maid, Brangeane, telling her to give the potion to\nIsolde and her husband on the day of their wedding, when it would fill\ntheir hearts with mutual love and cause their after lives to be happy.\n\nSo Tristan conducted Isolde to his ship and set sail for Cornwall; and\nof the deep love which had come to fill his own heart he uttered no\nword; nor so much as by a look or sign would he betray the trust reposed\nin him by his uncle the King.  Indeed, Tristan went to the farther side\nof caution, and when the Princess was once upon shipboard he did not\nlinger in her presence or speak with her, but busied himself with the\nsteering of the vessel.\n\nThis courteous reserve Isolde did not understand. She had been\naccustomed, all her life, to much attention and to seeing her lightest\nwish obeyed.  And now it angered her more than ever that Tristan--who\nowed her so much--should treat her like the veriest stranger. She\nendured his neglect in sullen silence until the last day of the voyage,\nwhen the ship was within sight of the shores of Cornwall.  Then despair\nat the thought of becoming the bride of a man she had never seen, and\nanger at the conduct of Tristan, overcame her.  In a violent outburst\nshe lamented her fate and wished that the waves could rise and swallow\nher up.\n\nBrangeane her maid was alarmed at this unusual mood and endeavoured to\ncalm her.  Finally Isolde raised her head and looked out through the\ndoorway.  She was in a pavilion on a raised portion of the deck, which\ncommanded a view of the entire ship.  As she looked, her eyes rested\nupon Sir Tristan who stood at the wheel steering the vessel.  His brown\nmuscular arms were bare, as also was his head save for a wealth of soft\nbrown curls. A cloak fastened about his shoulders swept in graceful\nfolds to his feet.  His whole frame spoke of grace and strength.  But\nhis clear blue eyes, fastened intently upon the vessel's course, had a\ntense look, almost stern in their sadness.  He seemed, indeed, to be\nfighting a hidden grief. Isolde pointed to him and asked mockingly of\nBrangeane:\n\n\"What think you of our fine hero?\"\n\n\"Who--Sir Tristan, my lady?  He is said to be the bravest and\nknightliest man in Christendom.\"\n\n\"I care not what they say.  He is an arrant coward!\"\n\n\"Oh, my lady!\"\n\n\"He is a coward, I tell you!  Afraid to meet a woman's eyes!  Conducting\nme to his royal master as though I were some kitchen wench!  Go you to\nhim and ask him why he has neglected our presence and treated us so\ncoldly.\"\n\n\"Shall I request him to attend upon you?\"\n\n\"No.  Command him!  Tell him it is the Princess Isolde who speaks!\"\n\nThe maid was reluctant to deliver this message, and walked slowly along\nthe deck.  But finally she paused beside the wheel and said:\n\n\"A message, my lord, from the Princess Isolde.\"\n\n\"Isolde!\"  Tristan started at the name and almost released the wheel.\nThen recovering himself quickly he asked; \"What is my lady pleased to\nsay?\"\n\n\"She commands you to wait upon her.\"\n\nTristan paid no heed to the wording of the message, but bade the maid\nexcuse him in all courtesy to her mistress, saying that he could best\nserve her at that moment by steering the vessel safely between the\ndangerous rocks which lay off the coast of Cornwall.\n\nThe gruff old knight, Kurneval, who had attended Tristan upon the\nvoyage, broke into a scornful laugh when he chanced to hear the message\nof the Princess.\n\n\"'Command' forsooth!\" he exclaimed.  \"The slayer of Morold is the vassal\nof no one, be she even a queen!\"\n\nIsolde overheard this speech, and when her maid returned to her, bearing\nTristan's refusal, her passion knew no bounds.\n\n\"Do you know who this ingrate is, who cannot find a moment's time for\nme?\" she cried.  \"He is the minstrel whose life I saved in Ireland, and\nwhom you helped me to nurse!\"\n\n\"Can it be possible!\" exclaimed Brangeane.  \"But 'tis strange that I did\nnot know him again!\"\n\n\"That is not the strange part,\" continued Isolde, storming.  \"I had\nsworn to take vengeance upon the slayer of Sir Morold.  I found out that\nhe was the slayer, and yet I pardoned him!  And this is his gratitude!\"\n\n\"My lady, my lady!\" said Brangeane, trying to soothe her mistress.\n\"Perchance Sir Tristan is not to blame for this.  He is serving his\nKing; and he shows you only the more honour, that he should woo you for\nthe King instead of for himself.\"\n\n\"But I care not a whit for the King!  Why should they all be forcing me\ninto this loveless marriage--into a life of misery?\"\n\n\"No, no, not that!\" replied Brangeane eagerly.  \"It was your mother's\ndearest wish that you should be happy. See this casket?  It contains a\nlove potion which she brewed for you, and which will fill your heart and\nthat of your husband with the truest devotion.\"\n\nThe sight of the potion diverted Isolde's mind into other channels.  It\nreminded her that she herself could brew drinks and mix powders.  She\nbegan at once to prepare a deadly poison, quietly telling her maid that\nit would make her forget her unhappy past.\n\nBy the time she had finished brewing this drink of death the ship had\nalmost reached its anchorage; and Kurneval entered to announce that they\nwould speedily land, and that Sir Tristan awaited to escort her to the\nKing.\n\nIsolde drew herself up proudly.\n\n\"Go back to Sir Tristan,\" she said, \"and say that we await him here.  We\nwill not leave this place until he appears to offer an apology for his\nrudeness!\"\n\nKurneval was moved to make some retort to this, but deeming that\ndiplomacy was the wisest plan he returned to Tristan and advised him to\nwait upon the irate Princess.\n\nIsolde, meanwhile, handed the poison flask to her maid, saying, \"When he\ncomes, give us to drink from it.  We have much to forget, and I would be\nat peace with the world this day.\"\n\n\"Oh, my lady!  What is it you would have me do?\" asked Brangeane,\nterrified by her mistress's manner. But Isolde pressed her hand\nreassuringly.\n\nAt that moment Tristan entered, and with tones of the deepest respect he\nasked what the Princess's will was with him.  But Isolde was in no mood\nto temporise, and she reproached him haughtily for his treatment of her\nduring the voyage, asking what he meant by such neglect to her station.\n\nIt was such language as one would address to an underling, and Sir\nTristan drew himself up with quiet dignity, replying that it was the\ncustom in his country, when an ambassador brought a bride home to his\nlord, to refrain from intruding his presence during the journey.\n\nIsolde replied scornfully, that if he was such a strict observer of\ncustom, he would do well to recall one other which he had overlooked.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Tristan.\n\n\"The blood ransom,\" she answered, \"for the life of Sir Morold!\"\n\n\"But that feud is healed!\" he responded quickly. \"There is now peace\nbetween Cornwall and Ireland.\"\n\n\"But not between Tristan and Isolde!\" she retorted. And she recalled to\nhim the time when he had sought her care in disguise; how she had\ndiscovered his identity by the broken sword, and yet had spared his life\nand kept his secret when her own land was filled with his enemies.  His\nlife, she now claimed, was still forfeit to her.\n\nTristan had listened to her with varied emotions, but had made no move\nto interrupt her.  Now with an indescribable air of sorrow and hurt\npride he drew his sword and presented it to her, handle foremost.\n\n\"It is the same weapon that slew Sir Morold in fair fight,\" he said.\n\"If you still so bitterly regret his death and your previous kindness to\nme, I pray you slay me!\"\n\n\"Nay!\" she answered, her face growing pale and red by turns.  \"Such deed\nwould ill requite King Mark, whose ambassador you are.  But we will\ndeclare a truce, if you will drink the usual cup of peace with me before\nwe land.\"\n\nAnd turning to Brangeane she commanded her to pour out the drink.  The\nmaid, pale and trembling, turned to fill the cup.  Sounds from without\nnow told them that the vessel was coming to anchor.  Isolde took the cup\nand handed it to Tristan.\n\n\"Your unwelcome voyage is over,\" she said darkly, looking into his eyes,\n\"will you drink with me?\"\n\nTristan took the cup.  He knew that Isolde had been plotting his death,\nand he now suspected that the drink was poisonous.  Yet death seemed\nwelcome to him at this moment.\n\n\"I thank you,\" he said calmly.  \"I drink in gladness, giving you my oath\nof truce for all time--the honour and the pain of Tristan!\"\n\nHe put the cup to his lips and began to drink.  But before he had drunk\nhalf its contents, Isolde with a suppressed cry snatched it from his\nhands and drained the rest.  Then the massive cup fell to the floor,\nunheeded, and the two stood silent, looking at each other.\n\nOnly a few moments they remained thus, and yet it seemed ages to them.\nThe drug had begun to take effect in a strange, unaccountable way.\nInstead of the icy chill of death, which they had expected to sweep\nthrough their veins, there came a wonderful tingle of life and love and\nbliss, all intermingled in a splendid wave drawing each nearer to the\nother.\n\n\"Tristan!\"\n\n\"Isolde!\"\n\nThe cries burst from their lips, as though they were in a trance; and\nforgetful of the whole world without, each sprang forward and was\nclasped in the other's arms.\n\n\"Alas!  What have I done?\" moaned Brangeane, wringing her hands.  In her\nterror at giving the brew whose contents she feared, she had poured the\nlove potion in its stead.  Now she dreaded lest it should be the more\nfatal of the two in its consequences.  But there was no way of escape.\nThe voices of the sailors and soldiers on the near-by shore proclaimed\nthe fact that King Mark was at hand.  Brangeane hastily seized the robe\nand crown, which Isolde was to wear, and placed them upon her mistress,\nurging her to make herself ready.\n\nAwakened from her brief dream of happiness, Isolde suffered herself to\nbe clad in the royal attire and led forward, weak and almost fainting,\nto meet her future husband.\n\nThe generous and courtly King received her with every consideration.\nNoting that she was faint and pale, which he thought due to the voyage,\nhe ordered rooms in his castle to be set aside for her and her maids;\nand he postponed the betrothal feast and other public events until she\nshould be strong enough to undergo them.  He and all his court were\ndelighted with this fair Irish Princess, and looked forward to the time\nwhen she should adorn their throne.\n\nThe rooms set aside for her use were the choicest in the castle, opening\ndirectly out upon a private garden. Here the Princess was glad to take\nrefuge for a few days, and thus put off the wedding as long as possible.\nShe knew now that it was the love potion she and Tristan had swallowed,\nand so violent was her passion that she felt she could not live without\nseeing him.  So she prevailed upon Brangeane to set a signal for her\nlover.  A light was to be left burning in the window of the tower, and\nwhen it was extinguished Tristan knew that he would find Isolde in the\ngarden.  His love was no less ardent than hers, and he impatiently\nawaited the secret meeting. Now there was one knight in the court who\nhad long tried to supplant Tristan in the King's favour.  His name was\nMelot, and he was wily and treacherous.  Always on the watch to trip up\nTristan in some way, he had noticed his confusion and Isolde's weakness\nwhen the ship had come to land, and had rightly guessed the cause.  So\nhe now sought to surprise the lovers at a meeting and then inform the\nKing.\n\nBrangeane had noticed Melot's manner and warned her mistress against\nhim, but Isolde was intent upon nothing else than seeing Tristan again.\nScarcely was darkness come, upon the eventful evening, when she bade the\nmaid put out the light which was to summon him; and when Brangeane\nhesitated, she herself extinguished it.\n\nIt was a beautiful moonlit night in early summer, when the flowers were\nin their first freshness and fragrance. It seemed to the Princess that\nall nature was rejoicing in her love.  She was not, however, paying heed\nto the blossoms on every side.  She was pacing eagerly back and forth\nlistening for a welcome footfall.  She had not long to wait, for Tristan\nsprang quickly through the shadows to meet her.  Gladly the two greeted\neach other, without reserve, and wandered together down the path talking\nin low earnest tones of the happiness that had come to them.  Isolde\nconfessed that she had planned his death upon that fateful day on\nshipboard; while Tristan said he had expected nothing less, and would\nhave welcomed it at her hands.\n\nMeanwhile the faithful maid had been left upon the tower to keep watch.\nSeveral times she called in low warning tones that they would best not\nlinger, but the lovers paid no heed to her, until Brangeane suddenly\ngave a cry of alarm.  At the same instant Kurneval rushed upon the scene\nwith drawn sword, imploring Tristan to fly.  But it was too late; the\nsound of horns was heard, and the King and Melot appeared, followed by a\nhunting party.\n\nIsolde, covered with shame, sank upon the ground. Tristan stood in front\nof her trying to shield her, but his own head was bent in trouble and he\ndid not meet the King's gaze.\n\n[Illustration: Tristan and Isolde\nStella Langdale]\n\n\"What does this mean?\" demanded the latter.\n\n\"It means that my doubts have been correct, your Majesty!\" answered\nMelot.  \"Sir Tristan has not been as faithful a servant as you\nsupposed!\"\n\nGrief was stronger than anger in the King's heart.  He had loved Tristan\nlike a son, and had gloried in his knightly honour.  He told Tristan\nthis, in a quiet yet stern voice, and ended by banishing him from the\nkingdom.\n\nTristan was almost heart-broken.  He realised that his punishment had\nbeen but just, and yet he seemed as though one in a dream, powerless to\nstem this current which was sweeping him away.  He did not answer the\nKing, but, instead, turned to Isolde and asked her if she would go with\nhim into exile.  She replied that wherever he went, there would she go,\neven to death itself.\n\nAt this new proof of her devotion Tristan's joy swept away all his\ndoubts and fears.  He drew her tenderly to him and turned proudly to\nface the King and his party.\n\n\"May the King and my foster-father pardon me out of his great kindness,\"\nhe said in a low tone, \"but Isolde has elected to follow me, and I can\ndo nothing less than protect her.  Farewell!\"\n\nThe King still stood a prey to conflicting emotions. But the traitor\nMelot, enraged at the turn of affairs, sprang forward, drawing his sword\nand crying, \"Think not to scape so easily, villain!  I will avenge the\nKing!\"\n\n\"Ha, it is _you_, traitor, who would protect the King's honour!\" said\nTristan haughtily.  \"Defend yourself, Melot!\"\n\nHe drew, and the weapons clashed sharply.  But only for a moment did\nthey meet.  Tristan purposely lowered his guard, and before anyone could\ninterpose, Melot had struck him with his sword.\n\n\"Disarm him!\" commanded the King, himself seizing Melot's arm.  Tristan,\nsorely wounded, sank to the ground, Isolde clinging to him and\nsupporting his head, while Kurneval strove to raise his stricken master.\n\nKing Mark gave orders to certain of his attendants to wait upon\nKurneval, and then strode slowly and sorrowfully away.  He realised all\ntoo late the injustice he had done his nephew in sending him upon the\nembassy, but he could not understand this breach of faith; it was so\nunlike Tristan's knightly honour.  It seemed to the old King that he\nregretted this more than the loss of his fair young bride.\n\n\nKurneval lost no time in conveying his master to the ancestral home in\nBrittany.  Tristan had become unconscious, and only the promptest care\ncould save his life. Kurneval vainly tried to nurse him back to health,\nbut he had made the mistake of leaving Isolde in Cornwall. For her\nTristan continually called, in his delirium, and her skill and loving\ncare would alone avail to save him. Kurneval soon realised this and sent\nmessengers entreating her to come to Brittany; and now with the return\nof the next ship he expected her to arrive.\n\nOn the day when the ship was looked for, Tristan who had awakened out of\nhis fever, but was very weak, lay under a linden-tree.  He had wished to\nlook at the blue sky again, and Kurneval had carried his couch out in\nthe courtyard.  The place had long been deserted and was now overgrown\nwith vines and bushes.  The ancient tower was crumbling, and the huge\ndrawbridge was in ruins.  But to Kurneval this was home, and he hoped\nthat the pleasant air and old surroundings would benefit his master.\n\nTristan was more nearly himself to-day, and asked many questions about\nhow he had come here, how long it had been, and when the Lady Isolde was\ncoming. Kurneval told him everything, and said that the Princess was\nlooked for, that very day.\n\nA smile broke over Tristan's face at this.  \"Ah! then I will live!\" was\nall he said, and sank into slumber again.\n\nMeanwhile a shepherd played upon his pipe, on the rocks below the\ncastle, looking out to sea.  The melody was low and plaintive, and as\nKurneval listened to it his heart sank; for he had posted the shepherd\nthere and bidden him play thus sadly so long as there was no sail in\nsight.  Now he knew that if Isolde did not come that day, the sun would\nset upon his master for the last time.\n\nAnd now, in his delirium, Tristan was telling of the ship which was\nbringing Isolde from Cornwall.\n\n\"Do you not see it?\" he asked.  \"Look! the sails are all filled up, and\nthe ship is steering straight for us. How high the waves pile up about\nthe bows!  There on deck is _her- pavilion, just as it was on that other\nlonely voyage.  And see! there she stands looking eagerly toward me, her\nhair garlanded with flowers and her arms outstretched!  It is my Isolde!\n*Mine_!  She is forsaking all the world and its thrones to come to the\nside of a poor outcast.  Ah, why is that music so sad?  They should pipe\nmerrily upon my wedding-day!\"\n\nAs if in answer to his last words, the shepherd on the lookout suddenly\nchanged his tune and piped shrilly and merrily.  The faithful Kurneval\nsprang to his feet and ran hastily to the rocks.  Yes, there was a broad\nsail and it was heading straight for them.  And on the deck stood a\nslender, white-robed figure that waved a scarf. Unable to restrain\nhimself, Kurneval hastened back to the sleeping knight.\n\n\"My lord, my lord!\" he exclaimed, shaking him gently. \"Awake! a ship is\nsailing straight to the foot of the castle.  We hope it may be the Lady\nIsolde!\"\n\n\"Yes, it is my dear lady,\" answered Tristan, sitting up.  \"I saw her in\nmy dreams.  Go to her and welcome her in my stead.  Hasten, good\nKurneval, hasten!\"\n\nKurneval urged him to be as quiet as possible, and went to obey his\ncommands.  But Tristan could not be patient.  Not knowing what he did,\nhe rose from his couch, in his exertion tearing his bandages loose and\ncausing his wound to bleed afresh.  He staggered half-way across the\ncourtyard, dizzy but unconscious of pain; for clear as a bell, from the\nrocks below, he heard his beloved's voice; \"Tristan!\"\n\n\"She is coming--my Princess!\" he muttered.  \"That is the voice I have\nheard in my dream.\"\n\nHe tried to answer her, but could not.  His knees tottered beneath him\nand he groped blindly as if in the dark.\n\n\"Tristan!\" called the voice, nearer this time.\n\n\"Isolde!\" he answered softly, as he sank to the earth. But the voice,\nweak as it was, had reached his beloved's ears, for she was bending over\nhim trying to raise him up and imploring him to speak to her once again.\n\n\"See, I am here, Tristan--my heart's delight!  I came as speedily as\nmight be, but oh! how slow the ship sailed!  Did you not hear my heart\ncalling to you, day and night, Tristan, Tristan, Tristan!  Now you will\nget well--you _must_ get well--and we will be ah! so happy here in\nBrittany!  But are you not glad to see me? Beloved, answer me!\"\n\nBut the voice she so longed to hear again was stilled forever.  Isolde\ntried in vain to rouse him, then a terrible dread seizing her, she sank\nunconscious across his lifeless body.\n\nAt this moment Kurneval was called from the pathetic sight by a great\ncommotion outside; and the shepherd ran to him crying that a second ship\nhad come to land and armed men were disembarking, followed by one who\nseemed to be a King.  Kurneval's first glance told him that it was King\nMark himself..  Fearing in his own wild grief that the monarch was\npursuing the two lovers, he resolved to defend the castle gate to his\nlast breath.\n\nThe first man to appear was Helot.  Kurneval drew his sword and rushed\nupon him.\n\n\"Back, thou cursed spy!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Peace, fool!\" said Melot.  \"Unbar the gate!\"\n\n\"Not to such as thee!\" retorted the old knight, and began to engage him\nfiercely.\n\n\"Stop them!  We come in peace!\" called out the voice of King Mark.\n\n\"Mistress!  Isolde!\"  It was Brangeane's voice that was now heard.\n\nBut the two combatants fought on.  Presently Melot's sword inflicted an\nugly wound.\n\n\"Ha, master, I will avenge you yet!\" cried Kurneval. with a last mighty\nstroke, delivered as he sank to the ground, he gave Melot his death\nwound.  Then the old knight crept slowly to his master's side and tried\nto make one last stand there, but sank back and breathed his last.\n\nJust then King Mark burst in at the gate, and paused stricken with\nremorse at the scene which greeted his eyes. Brangeane, sobbing aloud,\nran to her mistress and tried to revive her.  The maid was frantic with\nremorse for she felt as though this tragedy was due to her.  She had\nconfessed to the King the secret of the love potion, and he had at once\nset sail to assure the lovers of his pardon and affection.  He\nunderstood all at last, but now it was too late.\n\nBrangeane brought her mistress to consciousness, and implored her to\ngreet the King.\n\n\"He comes as your friend, and Sir Tristan's,\" she said; \"he is here to\naid you.\"\n\nKing Mark then hastened to speak to her, gently and kindly.  In his\ncourtesy he asked her pardon for the harm he had unwittingly done.\n\nBut Isolde paid no heed to his words.  Her gaze was fixed upon Tristan,\nand when she spoke it was in praise of his constancy and truth.  Then\nshe told of a glorious land to which they both were going, where they\nshould dwell free from sorrow and care and heartbreak.\n\n\"I know not where it is,\" she murmured, \"but I know my Tristan will be\nthere, and that will be for me a bliss supreme!\"\n\nA radiant smile overspread her face as she ended, and with a soft sigh\nher heart broke and she sank down and nestled her head close against\nthat of Tristan.  And while a sunset glory shone through the trees of\nthe old courtyard and illumined the scene, as though it were some\nradiant picture, those who stood by fancied they could hear strains of\nmusic.  Near and yet far-off it sounded clear and sweet, rising in soft\nwaves as though bearing the souls of these two weary pilgrims to the\nland of rest and eternal love.\n\n\n\n                                THE END\n\n\n\n                 THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH\n\n\n\n\n           *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\n                         *Famous Myths Series*\n\n\n                             *7s. 6d. net*\n\n\nEach of these handsome volumes contains more than 400 pages of\nletterpress, and 64 Plates by the best Artists of ancient and modern\ntimes. A feature of the Series is the very full Index to each volume.\n\nBindings--Cloth extra, gilt top, 7s. 6d. net.\n         Full Persian Morocco, 10s. 6d. net.\n         Three-Quarter Morocco or Vellum extra, 15s. net.\n         Full Morocco extra, 21s. net.\n\n\n*THE MYTHS OF GREECE AND ROME.*\n\nTheir Stories, Signification, and Origin.  By H. A. GUERBER. With 64\nPlates.\n\nThe Scotsman says:--\"Mr Guerber has woven the classic mythology into a\ncoherent history, and told with remarkable freshness of interest the\nfamiliar myths and traditions of Greek and Roman literature. The volume\nis at once a fascinating story-book and a valuable book of reference,\nand not its least attraction lies in the beautiful illustrations, all of\nwhich are reproductions of famous pictures, ancient and modern.\"\n\n\n*MYTHS OF THE NORSEMEN.*\n\nFrom the Eddas and Sagas.  By H. A. GUERBER.  With 64 Plates.\n\nThe Guardian says:--\"A well-written series of the fine tales from the\nEddas and Sagas, which, as William Morris said of Volsunga Saga, 'should\nbe to all our race what the tale of Troy was to the Greeks.'  A striking\nfeature of the collection is the number of excellent illustrations after\npictures by German and Norse artists, which express the spirit of the\nancient myths in a wonderful way.\"\n\n\n*MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE MIDDLE AGES.*\n\nBy H. A. GUERBER.  With 64 Exquisite Full-page Illustrations from\nimportant works of great Artists.\n\nThe object of this work is to familiarise students with the myths and\nlegends which form the principal subjects of mediaeval literature, and\nwhose influence is everywhere apparent in the subsequent history of\nliterature and art.\n\n\n*HERO-MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE BRITISH RACE.*\n\nBy M. I. EBBUTT, M.A.  With 64 Plates.\n\nFollowing the plan of the earlier volumes in this Series, this work\ngives in succinct form all the folk-tales and legends which are the\nheritage of our race.\n\n\n*MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE CELTIC RACE.*\n\nBy T. W. ROLLESTON.  With 64 Original Full-page Illustrations by STEPHEN\nREID.\n\nThis volume follows the plan of the earlier volumes, which have met with\nso great a success.  The Editor's important Introduction is the result\nof original research, and is expected to throw new light on the subject.\n\n\n*THE MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF JAPAN.*\n\nBy F. HADLAND DAVIS.  With 32 Plates in Colour by EVELYN PAUL.  416\npages.  Demy 8vo.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                          *The Romance Series*\n\n                               *5s. net*\n\n\nThis new Series owes its inception to the widespread interest now been\nmanifested in the stories from mythology and history which illustrate,\nas nothing else can, the character and individuality of each of the\ngreat races which in turn have played an important part in the\ndevelopment of civilization.\n\nThe books comprising \"The Romance Series\" have been written by authors\nwho are in deep sympathy with the growing number of those cultured men\nand women who desire to reclaim and conserve all that is precious of the\nancient tales of the different races.  They have sought to reproduce the\nstories in such a manner as to preserve the alluring charm which\nattaches to that which is antique.\n\nThe Illustrations are worthy of the stories. With two exceptions they\nare reproduced in full colours.  The illustrations for \"*The Story of\nHereward*\" and \"*Harald*,\" however, are reproduced by collotype, an\nexpensive process similar to photogravure.  Each volume contains sixteen\nplates, and in every case only artists of proved capacity have been\nemployed.\n\nEach volume contains at least 256 pages and 16 Illustrations in Colour\nor Collotype by the best Artists of the day.  Size, 8-1/2 x 5-7/8 in.\n\n\nBindings--Cloth extra, gilt top, 5s. net.\n         Half Morocco, 7s. 6d. net.\n         Full Morocco, 10s. 6d. net.\n         Velvet Persian Yapp, 10s. 6d. net.\n\n\n1. THE STORY OF HEREWARD.  Retold by DOUGLAS C. STEDMAN, B.A.\n\n2. STORIES FROM THE FAERIE QUEENE. Retold by LAWRENCE H. DAWSON.\n\n3. CUCHULAIN: THE HOUND OF ULSTER. Retold from Celtic MSS. by ELEANOR\nHULL.\n\n4. THE HIGH DEEDS OF FINN.  Retold by T. W. ROLLESTON. With Introduction\nby the Rev. STOPFORD A. BROOKE, M.A.\n\n5. STORIES FROM DANTE.  By SUSAN CUNNINGTON.\n\n6. STORIES FROM SHAKESPEARE.  Retold by Dr THOMAS CARTER.\n\n7. FOLK TALES FROM MANY LANDS.  Retold by LILIAN GASK.\n\n8. HARALD, FIRST OF THE VIKINGS.  By Capt. CHARLES YOUNG.\n\n9. STORIES OF INDIAN GODS AND HEROES. Retold by W. D. MONRO.\n\n10. SHAKESPEARE'S STORIES of the ENGLISH KINGS.  Retold by Dr T. CARTER,\nAuthor of \"Stories from Shakespeare.\"\n\n11. THE BOYS' FROISSART.  Retold by M. G. EDGAR, M.A.\n\n12. STORIES TO TELL TO CHILDREN.  By SARA CONE BRYANT.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                          *Heroes of the Ages*\n\n                             *3s. 6d. net*\n\n\nThis Series aims to bring before the imagination of boys and girls the\noutstanding heroic figures of the past.  All children, young and old,\nlove a hero, and in this respect human nature has not changed since the\nremote times when nothing was more certain of applause in the feast-hall\nthan the song of a hero's deeds.\n\nSome of the heroes told about in these volumes are historic, and their\ndeeds are, more or less, matters of exact knowledge; others, and they\nare no less dear to us, stand partly in the mist, and their valour and\nachievements have probably lost nothing during the passage of years.\n\nIn the preparation of these books no opportunity is lost of bringing\nforward those aspects of the stories which are calculated to be helpful\nin suggesting that which is worthy and of good repute, but there is, of\ncourse, no attempt at moralizing, and the narrative is left to inculcate\nits own moral lessons.\n\nThe illustrations are all artistic, and they are of the kind to appeal\nto boys and girls.\n\n                      Demy 8vo, 8-1/4 in. by 6 in.\n\n            Each volume contains 16 Plates and a Full Index.\n\n    Cloth Extra, 3s. 6d. net.  Also bound in Full Leather, 6s. net.\n\n\n1. The Story of Napoleon.  By HAROLD F. B. WHEELER. F.R.Hist.S.  320\npages.\n\n2. Famous Voyages of the Great Discoverers.  From Henry the Navigator to\nRaleigh.  By ERIC WOOD.  272 pages.\n\n3. The Story of the Crusades.  Retold by E. M. WILMOT-BUXTON. 288 pages.\n\n4. Stories of the Scottish Border.  Retold by Mr and Mrs WILLIAM PLATT.\n256 pages.\n\n5. The Story of Nelson.  By H. F. B. WHEELER, F.R.Hist.S., Author of\n\"The Story of Napoleon.\"  256 pages.\n\n6. Heroes of the Middle Ages.  From Alaric to Columbus By E. M. TAPPAN,\nPh.D.  256 pages.\n\n7. The Conquest of Peru.  Retold from Prescott by HENRY GILBERT.\n\n8.  The Story of Wellington.  By H. F. B. WHEELER, Author of \"The Story\nof Napoleon.\" 320 pages.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                        *Told Through the Ages*\n\n\nA series of books of entrancing interest for young readers which has\nbecome thoroughly established in favour. Designed to include those epics\nand stories of the past, which have survived the chances of time,\nreflecting, as they do, the genius of the nations which gave them birth.\n\nEach volume contains 256 pages of letterpress and 16 full-page\nIllustrations, including reproductions from the best works of Lord\nLeighton, Sir E. Burne-Jones, G. F. Watts, D. G. Rossetti, Sir John\nGilbert, Sir W. B. Richmond, Hon. John Collier, and other famous English\nand Continental artists.\n\n                Large crown 8vo.  256 pages.  16 Plates.\n\n                  Half Leather, gilt top, 2s. 6d. net.\n\n     Full Limp French Morocco, new picture end-papers, 3s. 6d. net.\n\n Special Edition, printed on rag paper, Half Calf or Half Morocco, 5s.\n                                  net.\n\n                Full Calf or Full Morocco, 7s. 6d. net.\n\n\n1. LEGENDS OF GREECE AND ROME.\n2. FAVOURITE GREEK MYTHS.\n3. STORIES OF ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MERRY OUTLAWS.\n4. STORIES OF KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS.\n5. STORIES FROM HERODOTUS.\n6. STORIES FROM WAGNER.\n7. BRITAIN LONG AGO.  Stories from Old English and Celtic Sources.\n8. STORIES FROM SCOTTISH HISTORY.\n9. STORIES FROM GREEK TRAGEDY.\n10. STORIES FROM DICKENS.\n11. STORIES FROM THE EARTHLY PARADISE.\n12. STORIES FROM THE AENEID.  Retold from Virgil.\n13. THE BOOK OF RUSTEM.  Stories of Persian Heroes.\n14. STORIES FROM CHAUCER.\n15. STORIES FROM THE OLD TESTAMENT.\n16. STORIES FROM THE ODYSSEY.\n17. STORIES FROM THE ILIAD.\n18. TOLD BY THE NORTHMEN.\n19. STORIES FROM DON QUIXOTE.\n20. THE STORY OF ROLAND AND THE PEERS OF CHARLEMAGNE.\n21. STORIES FROM THUCYDIDES.\n22. THE STORY OF HEREWARD.\n23. STORIES FROM THE FAERIE QUEENE.\n24. CUCHULAIN: THE HOUND OF ULSTER.\n25. STORIES FROM XENOPHON.\n26. OLD GREEK NATURE STORIES.\n27 to 30.  _In preparation._\n31. STORIES OF PENDENNIS AND THE CHARTERHOUSE.\n32. SIR GUY OF WARWICK.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                 *INDUSTRIAL AND SOCIAL HISTORY SERIES*\n\n                   By KATHARINE ELIZABETH DOPP, PH.D.\n\n                             *Announcement*\n\n\nThe purpose of this series is to render available for general use, the\nsubject-matter which readily lends itself to those forms of practical\nactivity which are seeking expression in the child, and which at the\nsame time represents social experience of a fundamental character.  This\nsubject-matter, which includes the most significant steps in the early\ndevelopment of our industrial and social institutions, is not only so\nclosely related to the child's experience as to be readily appreciated\nand controlled by him, but it is of profound significance as a means of\ninterpreting the complex life of the present.\n\n\n*I. The Tree-Dwellers* _The Age of Fear_\n\nIllustrated with a map, 15 full-page and 60 text drawings in half-tone\nby HOWARD V. BROWN.  Limp cloth, large crown 8vo, 128 pages.\n\nThis volume makes clear to the child how people lived before they had\nfire, how and why they conquered it, and the changes wrought in society\nby its use.  The simple activities of gathering food, of weaving,\nbuilding, taming fire, making use of the body for tools and weapons and\nwearing trophies, are here shown to be the simple forms of processes\nwhich still minister to our daily needs.\n\n\n*II. The Early Cave-Men* _The Age of Combat_\n\nIllustrated with 75 drawings in half-tone by HOWARD V. BROWN.\n\nLimp cloth, large crown 8vo, 160 pages, 1s. 3d.\n\nIn this volume the child is helped to realise that it is not only\nnecessary to know how to use fire, but to know how to make it.\nProtection from the cold winters, which characterise the age described,\nis sought first in caves; but fire is a necessary means of defending the\ncaves.\n\n\n*III. The Later Cave-Men* _The Age of the Chase_\n\nIllustrated with 110 drawings in half-tone by HOWARD V. BROWN. Limp\ncloth, large crown 8vo, 180 pages, 1s. 3d.\n\nHere is portrayed the influence of man's presence upon wild animals.\nMan's fear which, with the conquest of fire, gave way to courage, has\nresulted in his mastery of many mechanical appliances and in the\ndevelopment of social co-operation, which so increases his power as to\nmake him an object of fear to the animals.  Since the wild animals now\ntry to escape from man's presence, there is a greater demand made upon\nman's ingenuity than ever before in supplying his daily food.\n\n\n*Suggestions to Teachers*\n\nUpon the Use of the three Books in the Industrial and History Series.\nCrown 8vo, 128 pages.  Price 1s. 6d. net.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                  *HARRAP'S DRAMATIC HISTORY READERS*\n\n                            (IN FIVE BOOKS)\n\n              Edited by FRED E. MELTON.  Fully Illustrated\n\n\nThis Series is designed to make English History a living thing, and to\nutilise the dramatic instinct which all children possess. The author is\nan enthusiastic teacher, and the scenes in these volumes have all been\ntested in the class-room.\n\n                               NOW READY\n\nBook I.--The Tree People to the end of the Roman Occupation. 128 pages.\nIllustrated, cloth limp, 6d.\n\nBook II.--The Coming of the Saxons to Hereward the Wake. 128 pages.\nIllustrated, cloth limp, 6d.\n\nBook III.--The Reign of William the Conqueror to the Decay of Feudalism\n(Crecy).  160 pages.  Illustrated, cloth limp, 10d.\n\nBook IV.--Edward III. to the end of the Tudors.  192 pages. Illustrated,\ncloth boards, 1s.\n\nBook V.--James I. to the Reign of Queen Victoria.  224 pages.\nIllustrated, cloth boards, 1s. 3d.\n\nIn Preparation.--A Teachers' Guide to Dramatic History.\n\nA Special Prospectus, including Specimen Pages, etc., of the above, will\nbe sent to any address.\n\n\n\n\n                              *BIOGRAPHY*\n\n\n*In Tudor Times*\n\nBy EDITH L. ELIAS, M.A.  With 16 Full-page Portraits.  256 pp. with\nIndex, 1s. 6d.  Prize Edition, 2s. 6d. net.\n\nA Series of short biographies containing graphic sketches of the leading\ncharacters of the Tudor period.  The book is divided into five\nphases--(1) The Kingship; (2) The Church; (3) The Sea; (4) The Court;\n(5) The Renaissance.\n\n\n*In Stewart Times*\n\nBy EDITH L. ELIAS, M.A.  With 16 Full-page Portraits.  260 pages, with\nIndex, 1s. 6d.  Prize Edition, 2s. 6d. net.\n\nThe book is divided into five phases--(1) The Kingship and the\nProtectorate, (2) The State; (3) The Army; (4) The Church; (5) Science\nand the Fine Arts.\n\n\n*In Georgian Times*\n\nBy EDITH L. ELIAS, M.A.  Uniform with the above in style and price.\n\n\n*Ancient Peoples and their Heroes*\n\n*Modern Nations and their Famous Men*\n\nBy H. B. NIVER.  Each volume uniform in style and price.  Fully\nIllustrated.  192 pages each volume.  Crown 8vo, cloth boards, 1s. each.\nPrize Edition, 1s. 6d. net each.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                        *INTRODUCTORY VOLUMES TO\n                                HARRAP'S\n                        STORY OF ENGLAND SERIES*\n\n\n*THE CAVE BOY*\n\nOf the Age of Stone.  By MARGARET A. M'INTYRE.\n\nProfusely Illustrated.  160 pp.  Crown 8vo, 1s.\n\n\"The story is written simply, but it teaches a most interesting lesson\nin a naturally presented series of adventures which will hold the\nattention of a boy or girl.  A short appendix explains how the ways of\nprimitive man have been read from existing evidence; and there are\npractical suggestions for teachers who wish to make the most of this\ncapital book as an introduction to a subject so suggestive along the\nlines, not only of social life, but of history, geography and nature\nstudy.\"--_Education_.\n\n\n*DAYS BEFORE HISTORY*\n\nBy H. R. HALL.  With numerous full-page and other Illustrations,\ncarefully drawn from Models in the British Museum and elsewhere.  160\npp.  Crown 8vo, 1s.\n\nProfessor J. J. FlNDLAY, M.A., writes in the preface:--\"This story\ntransplants the child to an epoch where men and women are themselves\nchildren--where the problems of life are the simple tasks of economic\nexistence--food, shelter, clothing. It gives him a practical problem to\nachieve, to make pots for the food, to weave cloth for the tent: it\ngives him ideas for play, ideas that underlie all the great games in\nwhich mankind finds recreation.  I heartily welcome 'Days Before\nHistory' on our children's behalf.\"\n\nProfessor W. BOYD DAWKINS, D.Sc., F.R.S., author of \"Early Man in\nBritain,\" writes:--\"The story is excellent and true to the facts.  The\nbook fills a gap in the history of Britain.\"\n\nMr J. L. PATON, M.A., High Master of the Manchester Grammar School,\nwrites:--\"I was very much pleased with it; read it every word; have\nalready adopted it at Preparatory Schools, and it comes on next year in\nmy own Preparatory Form at the Big School.\"\n\n\n*CAVE, LAKE, AND MOUND DWELLERS*\n\nBy FLORENCE HOLBROOK, author of \"The Hiawatha Primer,\" and \"A Book of\nNature Myths.\"  With nearly 100 Illustrations.  140 pp.  Crown 8vo, 1s.\n\nThis little book covers briefly the whole field of pre-historic life,\nand, while not written in story form, like \"Days Before History,\" and\n\"The Cave Boy,\" forms an interesting introduction to the subject for\nyoung readers.\n\n\n\n                     *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n                        HARRAP'S NEW ILLUSTRATED\n                        STORY OF ENGLAND SERIES\n\n\nIn 8 Volumes.  Each containing some 256 pages and about 150 Original\nIllustrations drawn from the museums, old MSS. and other sources.  The\nvolumes are attractively printed and bound, and the aim has been to\ninterest as well as to instruct.\n\nWhilst devoting considerable attention to political history, a far\ngreater space than is usual is given to the social life of the people.\nChapters are devoted to life in a monastery, life in a castle, life in\nthe towns, and sports and pastimes are adequately treated. Costume and\narchitecture also receive considerable attention. Whenever possible old\nrecords are quoted in the original words. and family memoirs are often\ndrawn upon in order to make the narrative more vivid.\n\n\n                         _LIST OF THE VOLUMES_\n\n*THE DAWN OF BRITISH HISTORY* (350 B.C.-A.D. 450). By ALICE CORKRAN.\n\n*THE BIRTH OF ENGLAND* (450-1066).  By ESTELLE ROSS.\n\n*FROM CONQUEST TO CHARTER* (1066-1215).  BY ESTELLE ROSS.\n\n*BARONS AND KINGS* (1216-1488).  By ESTELLE ROSS.\n\n*TUDOR ENGLAND* (1488-1603).  By ADA RUSSELL.\n\n*THE STRUGGLE WITH THE CROWN* (1603-1714). By E. M. WILMOT-BUXTON,\nF.R.Hist.S.\n\n*GEORGIAN ENGLAND* (1714-1830).  By SUSAN CUNNINGTON.\n\n*VICTORIAN ENGLAND* (1830-1901).  By ESTELLE ROSS.\n\n         _For Volumes introductory to this Series see page 7._\n\n\n\n           *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *","title":"Stories from Wagner","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":66527}