Still there came a day at last when Tannhäuser awoke. He awoke as if from a dream. For a sound had pierced the very rocks and reached his ears. It was the chime of distant church bells.
Tannhäuser ran his hand across his forehead and staggered to his feet. He remembered.
With the remembrance came a loathing and a longing that were pain. He hated the perfume-laden mists about him, the strange flowers, and the nymphs with their songs and endless whirling dances. He longed for a breath of pure woodland air, for the sight of rain-freshened grass, for the sound of the lark's song at dawn.
So he seized his harp and sang to Venus and begged her to let him go back to earth.
"Oh, goddess," he implored, "let me go."
But Venus only smiled a dreamy smile and spoke in soft whispers of the charm of her domain. And the dancers circled about in a maddening whirl, ever faster and faster. The odor of the strange flowers became still heavier. Sparkling points of light gleamed among the shadows. A mysterious blue lake appeared in the hazy distance, and misty clouds of rose and gold floated in the air.
But Tannhäuser still remembered. He loathed the never-ending delights; the ceaseless ease and rest; the songs, the odors, the mist. Ah! for but a sight of Heaven's clear blue, its clouds and sun of noonday, its moon and stars of night; the changing round of seasons, seed time and harvest; the mingled joys and pains; and work, thrice-blessed work!
Tannhäuser took up his harp and sang to Venus once more. The strings rang with the vigor of his touch; his voice soared high in heart-stirring refrain. He promised that as long as he had life he would sing the praises of Venus. Wherever he might roam, her name—and hers alone—would bring a song to his lips. As her champion would he fare forth upon the earth again. All this he promised, if she would only set him free.
Anger overwhelmed the goddess—but she hesitated no longer. Let him spread her fame and name through the upper world that had banished her! With one sweep of her arms she broke the chains of enchantment that bound Tannhäuser fast. Crying,—