Act I. The curtain, on rising, discloses a scene of unwonted life on

the plain near the River Scheldt, where the stream winds toward Antwerp. On an elevated seat under a huge oak sits _King Henry I._ On either side are his Saxon and Thuringian nobles. Facing him with the knights of Brabant are _Count Frederick of Telramund_ and his wife, _Ortrud_, daughter of the Prince of Friesland, of dark, almost forbidding beauty, and with a treacherous mingling of haughtiness and humility in her carriage.

It is a strange tale the _King_ has just heard fall from _Frederick of Telramund's_ lips. _Henry_ has assembled the Brabantians on the plain by the Scheldt in order to summon them to join his army and aid in checking the threatened invasion of Germany by the Hungarians. But he has found the Brabantians themselves torn by factional strife, some supporting, others opposing _Frederick_ in his claim to the ducal succession of Brabant.

"Sire," says _Frederick_, when called upon by the _King_ to explain the cause of the discord that has come upon the land, "the late Duke of Brabant upon his death-bed confided to me, his kinsman, the care of his two children, _Elsa_ and her young brother _Godfrey_, with the right to claim the maid as my wife. But one day _Elsa_ led the boy into the forest and returned alone. From her pale face and faltering lips I judged only too well of what had happened, and I now publicly accuse _Elsa_ of having made away with her brother that she might be sole heir to Brabant and reject my right to her hand. Her hand! Horrified, I shrank from her and took a wife whom I could truly love. Now as nearest kinsman of the duke I claim this land as my own, my wife, too, being of the race that once gave a line of princes to Brabant."

So saying, he leads _Ortrud_ forward, and she, lowering her dark visage, makes a deep obeisance to the _King_. To the latter but one course is open. A terrible accusation has been uttered, and an appeal must be made to the immediate judgment of God in trial by combat between _Frederick_ and whoever may appear as champion for _Elsa_. Solemnly the _King_ hangs his shield on the oak, the Saxons and Thuringians thrust the points of their swords into the ground, while the Brabantians lay theirs before them. The royal _Herald_ steps forward. "Elsa, without delay appear!" he calls in a loud voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Music]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Music]

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

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