The window opposite opened softly. Ortruda and Telramund drew back farther into the shadow. A white-robed figure came out on the balcony.
Ortruda whispered in Telramund’s ear: “Go thou, and leave her alone with me,” and Frederick withdrew.
“Elsa!” cried a wailing, miserable voice.
Elsa started. “Who calls me?”
“Is my voice so strange to thee?” answered Ortruda piteously. “Wilt thou repulse one in sore distress?”
“Ortruda! Thou! What doest thou here, and at this hour, unhappy woman?” asked Elsa, in surprise.
“Ah, woe is me!” moaned Ortruda. “What have I done, that such dark trouble should fall on me? How different thy fate! After a brief time of trouble, every cloud has vanished, and life smiles gloriously before thee.”
“Most unworthy should I be of my great happiness, could I spurn one in misery such as thine, Ortruda. Come! I myself will open the door to you.”
“Ortruda, where art thou?” called the gentle voice of Elsa, opening the door.
“Here at thy feet!” replied Ortruda, throwing herself down before the white-robed figure.