Percival rejoiced greatly, and embraced, and blessed his son, while Konduiramur, her heart filled with joy at Lohengrin’s high calling, and also with anxiety about his safety, went to fetch the armour inlaid with gold that Amfortas had once worn, and the sword that had broken during Percival’s fight with his brother Feirefiss, but which had since been re-forged and tempered in the sanctuary of the Sangreal.
A squire now entered the hall, and announced that a boat lay in the lake below the mountain, which a swan with a golden crown was towing by a chain of gold. This was the sign that the hour of the young hero’s departure was come. The king and queen, and all the knights accompanied him to the shore, where the boat awaited him. As he was about to embark, Percival gave him a golden horn, and said:
“Blow three times on this horn as a sign that you have arrived amongst the worldly-minded children of men, and again three times to show that you are coming home; for, if you are ever asked from whence you came, and of what family you are sprung, you must at once be up and away on your return to the holy mountain. This is the indestructible law of the brotherhood of the Sangreal.”
Lohengrin sprang into the boat, and the swan swam away with it, bearing it towards the sea. The air was full of the softest strains of music; but whether it was the swan that sang, or a choir of angels, Lohengrin could not tell. The music ceased when the boat reached the sea. Its place was taken by the howling of the storm, and the sound of many waters. When night came on, the young hero stretched himself in the bottom of the boat, and fell asleep, undisturbed by wind or waves.
Fair-Else, the Duchess.
One day the youthful Duchess of Brabant had gone out to hunt. She was of such surpassing beauty that she was always called Fair-Else. On this occasion she had somehow got separated from her companions, and to tell the truth, she was not at all sorry, for she wanted to have a little quiet time for thought; so she threw herself on the grass under a great linden tree, and began to ponder over her troubles. She had many lovers, and would gladly have got rid of them all, especially of the Count of Telramund, a mighty warrior and her former guardian, who persisted in maintaining that her father had promised her to him on his death-bed. The young duchess both hated and feared the count. She had refused point-blank to marry him in spite of his threats, and he now declared that he would make war upon her, and would also bring a heavy charge against her before the newly-elected German King, Heinrich of Saxony. Else thought over all these things with a heavy heart, till she fell asleep, lulled by the humming of the bees and the soft murmur of the wind in the branches overhead. And in her sleep she dreamt. It was a strange dream. She thought that a youthful hero came to her out of the wood, and offering her a little silver bell, told her to ring it if ever she needed assistance, and he would come without delay. It seemed to her that she tried to take the bell but could not, and in the effort she awoke. While puzzling over the meaning of her dream, she became aware of a falcon hovering over her. It wheeled round her head several times, and finally perched on her shoulder. Tied round its neck was a silver bell exactly like the one she had seen in her dream. She gently detached the bell and the falcon flew away.
Soon after she returned home, a messenger arrived to summon her before King Heinrich’s judgment-seat at Cologne on the Rhine. She obeyed the summons with a heart at ease, for she felt herself in the keeping of a Higher Power, and trusted in the hope her dream held out to her.
King Heinrich was a man who both loved and exercised justice; but the empire sorely needed stout defenders,—hordes of wild Hungarians ravaged the south every year,—and Count Telramund was a mighty warrior whose assistance was of great value to him, so he hoped that his claims would be successfully proved.
LOHENGRIN’S ARRIVAL.