Act II. That night in the fortress of Antwerp, the palace where abide

the knights is brilliantly illuminated and sounds of revelry issue from it, and lights shine from the kemenate, where _Elsa's_ maids-in-waiting are preparing her for the bridal on the morrow. But in the shadow of the walls sit two figures, a man and a woman; the man, his head bowed in despair, the woman looking vindictively toward the palace. They are _Frederick_ and _Ortrud_, who have been condemned to banishment, he utterly dejected, she still trusting in the power of her heathenish gods. To her the Swan Knight's chivalrous forbearance in sparing _Frederick's_ life has seemed weak instead of noble, and _Elsa_ she regards as an insipid dreamer and easy victim. Not knowing that _Ortrud_ still darkly schemes to ruin _Elsa_ and restore him to power, _Frederick_ denounces her in an outburst of rage and despair.

As another burst of revelry, another flash of light, causes _Frederick_ to bow his head in deeper gloom, _Ortrud_ begins to unfold her plot to him. How long will a woman like _Elsa_--as sweet as she is beautiful, but also as weak--be able to restrain herself from asking the forbidden question? Once her suspicion aroused that the Knight is concealing from her something in his past life, growing jealousy will impel her first to seek to coax from him, then to demand of him his name and lineage. Let _Frederick_ conceal himself within the minster, and when the bridal procession reaches the steps, come forth and, accusing the Knight of treachery and deceit, demand that he be compelled to disclose his name and origin. He will refuse, and thus, even before _Elsa_ enters the minster, she will begin to be beset by doubts. She herself meanwhile will seek to enter the kemenate and play upon her credulousness. "She is for me; her champion is for you. Soon the daughter of Odin will teach you all the joys of vengeance!" is _Ortrud's_ sinister exclamation as she finishes.

Indeed it seems as if Fate were playing into her hand. For at that very moment _Elsa_, all clad in white, comes out upon the balcony of the kemenate and, sighing with happiness, breathes out upon the night air her rapture at the thought of what bliss the coming day has in store for her. As she lets her gaze rest on the calm night she hears a piteous voice calling her name, and looking down sees _Ortrud_, her hands raised in supplication to her. Moved by the spectacle of one but a short time before so proud and now apparently in such utter dejection, the guileless maid descends and, herself opening the door of the kemenate, hastens to _Ortrud_, raises her to her feet, and gently leads her in, while, hidden in the shadows, _Frederick of Telramund_ bides his time for action. Thus within and without, mischief is plotting for the unsuspecting _Elsa_.

These episodes, following the appearance of _Elsa_ upon the balcony, are known as the "Balcony Scene." It opens with the exquisite melody which _Elsa_ breathes upon the zephyrs of the night in gratitude to heaven for the champion sent to her defence. Then, when in pity she has hastened down to _Ortrud_, the latter pours doubts regarding her champion into _Elsa's_ mind. Who is he? Whence came he? May he not as unexpectedly depart? The whole closes with a beautiful duet, which is repeated by the orchestra, as _Ortrud_ is conducted by _Elsa_ into the apartment.

It is early morn. People begin to gather in the open place before the minster and, by the time the sun is high, the space is crowded with folk eager to view the bridal procession. They sing a fine and spirited chorus.

At the appointed hour four pages come out upon the balcony of the kemenate and cry out:

"Make way, our Lady Elsa comes!" Descending, they clear a path through the crowd to the steps of the minster. A long train of richly clad women emerges upon the balcony, slowly comes down the steps and, proceeding past the palace, winds toward the minster. At that moment a great shout, "Hail! Elsa of Brabant!" goes up, as the bride herself appears followed by her ladies-in-waiting. For the moment _Ortrud's_ presence in the train is unnoticed, but as _Elsa_ approaches the minster, _Frederick's_ wife suddenly throws herself in her path.

"Back, Elsa!" she cries. "I am not a menial, born to follow you! Although your Knight has overthrown my husband, you cannot boast of who he is--his very name, the place whence he came, are unknown. Strong must be his motives to forbid you to question him. To what foul disgrace would he be brought were he compelled to answer!"

Fortunately the _King_, the bridegroom, and the nobles approaching from the palace, _Elsa_ shrinks from _Ortrud_ to her champion's side and hides her face against his breast. At that moment _Frederick of Telramund_, taking his cue from _Ortrud_, comes out upon the minster steps and repeats his wife's accusation. Then, profiting by the confusion, he slips away in the crowd. The insidious poison, however, has already begun to take effect. For even as the _King_ taking the Knight on his right and _Elsa_ on his left conducts them up the minster steps, the trembling bride catches sight of _Ortrud_ whose hand is raised in threat and warning; and it is clinging to her champion, in love indeed but love mingled with doubt and fear, that she passes through the portal, and into the edifice.

These are crucial scenes. The procession to the minster, often known as the bridal procession, must not be confused with the "Bridal Chorus." It is familiar music, however, because at weddings it often is played softly as a musical background to the ceremony.