The young hero looked for a while, lost in admiration. Then bending down to her, he pressed a pa.s.sionate kiss on her rosy lips. Brunhilde, the fair sleeper, opened her eyes, and at the same time every living being in the castle awoke.
The old legend depicts in glowing colours the sweet hours of love that followed for Siegfried and Brunhilde. Days and months pa.s.sed by without the lovers being aware of it. However fond of adventures Siegfried was, he felt himself chained to the spot by her subtle charms. While thus undecided he heard one day the bird"s voice: "Leave the castle and give up a life of ign.o.ble leisure; direct your steps towards the country of the Nibelungen, take possession of their immense treasures and of the precious invisible cap."
At the prospect of new adventures Siegfried could not be kept back any longer by Brunhilde. They parted with the solemn promise of meeting again.
A great many exploits are recorded of the proud hero which he performed in the country of the Nibelungen. After a long and hard struggle with the cunning dwarfs, he took away with him their treasure, as well as the cap which had the gift of making its wearer invisible.
Years had pa.s.sed by, and Siegfried longed to see the place of his childhood again. So he turned homewards and reached Xanten after many adventures. The joy of his n.o.ble parents at seeing their valiant son again was indescribable.
The legend of Siegfried"s youthful exploits and his home-coming is full of romance and happiness. But if we listen to the continuation of his story we shall find how every human feeling has its place in the hero"s biography, great joy, deep sorrow, pa.s.sionate love, glowing hatred, heroism and perfidy, cowardice and high courage, until at last the legend of Siegfried ends in a pitiful wail of grief.
CLEVE
Lohengrin
[Ill.u.s.tration: Des Schwanenritters Abschied--Nach dem Gemalde von W. von Kaulbach--Lohengrin"s Departure--Le depart du chevalier au cygne]
The weatherc.o.c.k on the ancient stronghold at Cleve is a swan, and in olden times the dynasty that ruled over the lovely country round Cleve had also a swan in their crest. A legend, tragic and beautiful, preserved to posterity forever in Richard Wagner"s lovely opera, is connected with it,--the legend of Lohengrin.
Long centuries ago deep sorrow brooded over the walls of the castle at Cleve. Its mistress, the d.u.c.h.ess Elsa, was in great distress. Her beloved husband had died, and his remains had been brought to their last resting-place. As soon as the tomb had closed over them, one of the late Duke"s va.s.sals, Telramund, rose in revolt, and imperiously claimed the right to reign over the dukedom. The audacious man went so far as to ask the widowed d.u.c.h.ess to become his wife, declaring that this was the only means of saving her rank, which the death of her husband had deprived her of.
Elsa, the youthful and lovely mistress, implored the knights of her dominion to a.s.sist her in her trouble, and to take up arms against the rebel. But Telramund, little disconcerted by this appeal, offered to fight in single combat with anybody who dared to take up the quarrel with him, well knowing that, on account of his immense strength, n.o.body would dare to become his adversary.
The days pa.s.sed in deepest sorrow for the unfortunate d.u.c.h.ess. The moment was approaching when the rebel would make bold to proclaim openly his claims before the whole a.s.sembled n.o.bility on the open s.p.a.ce before the castle. The fatal hour came. Pale, her face covered by her widow"s veil, her queenly form enveloped in mourning garments, Elsa descended from her castle to the a.s.sembly. The large plain was crowded with a throng of people, and glittered with the brilliant armour of the knights.
The unfaithful va.s.sal, covered from head to foot in shining armour, came forward with bold steps and claimed in a loud voice the hand and dominion of the d.u.c.h.ess. The knights around, deluded by his valiant appearance and the firmness of his voice, broke into loud applause.
Some of the crowd joined them in their cry of approbation, but most of the people looked on, full of pity and admiration for their youthful mistress.
No answer to his first challenge having come, Telramund repeated his audacious demand, offering again to fight in single combat anybody who dared to accept it. His eyes glanced defiantly over the brilliant mult.i.tude of knights. He perceived with triumphant joy, how they all shrank from fighting with him.--Elsa looked still paler than before.
For a third time the challenge of Telramund was heard. It sounded clearly over the whole plain. But none of the bright warriors came forward to take up the combat for Elsa"s sake.
On the contrary deep silence followed the third challenge, and everybody"s eyes were fixed on the forsaken princess who looked in her abandoned position still more lovely. The little hope that had till that moment given her strength to bear her misfortune, had now entirely vanished. In her utter desolation she offered a fervent prayer to heaven. On her rosary, so the legend records, a little silver bell was hanging, which possessed the wonderful gift of giving forth, whenever slightly touched, a clear ringing sound audible even at a great distance. In praying to G.o.d for deliverance from her great trouble, she pressed the cross on her rosary fervently to her lips.
The silver bell tinkled, and at the same moment a little barge suddenly appeared on the blue river. When it came nearer, everybody looked with astonishment at the strange vessel. Its form was light and graceful; but what astonished the people most was that it was not moved by either oar or rudder, but was gently gliding on the blue waves drawn by a snow-white swan. In the middle of the vessel stood a knight in shining silver armour.
Long golden locks emerged from under his glittering helmet, his bright blue eyes looked boldly over the crowd on the sh.o.r.e, and his hand held the hilt of his broad sword firmly.
The strange boat stopped just opposite the plain where the people stood motionless with amazement. The knight landed from the barge, giving a sign with his hand to the swan, which swam gently down the Rhine.
In silence and awe the mult.i.tude made room for the stranger who approached with firm steps towards the middle of the brilliant circle, and saluted the a.s.sembly with a solemn grace. Then he bent his knees before the d.u.c.h.ess and rising, turned towards Telramund, challenging him proudly to fight with him for the hand and dominion of Elsa of Brabant. The bold rebel"s temerity seemed to fail him for a few moments, but gathering fresh courage he pulled his sword from its sheath with a loud scornful laugh.
The next moment the two knights darted at each other, their blades clashing in rapid strokes.
The whole crowd looked with wonder and amazement at the strange knight"s great prowess. He parried the blows of his strong adversary skilfully. The combat lasted for some time, and neither of the fighters seemed to give way. Suddenly a subdued cry was heard, and at the same time the presumptuous va.s.sal sank to the ground, pierced by the sword of him whom G.o.d had sent, and expired. A tremendous shout of joy burst from the gazing crowd, which rang from one end of the plain to the other and was echoed by the glittering waves of the Rhine. The people rejoiced in the victory, and thought that G.o.d himself had decided the combat in favour of Elsa.
The d.u.c.h.ess felt greatly moved. In her overflowing grat.i.tude she sank down before her deliverer with tears in her eyes. But he bade her rise, and bowing low before her asked her to become his wife. She consented. What a heaven of bliss opened for the d.u.c.h.ess of Brabant!
All her former troubles were forgotten.
Her grat.i.tude towards her rescuer was transformed into pa.s.sionate love, to which Lohengrin, the virtuous knight, responded with tender adoration.
Yet though everything seemed now so serene in the life of the d.u.c.h.ess, there was a dim cloud which threatened to darken the clear prospect of her happiness. On their wedding-day Elsa had to promise her bridegroom that she would never inquire about his name, his home, or his descent.
Trusting her deliverer"s honour and chivalrous bearing, she took the strange oath without a moment"s hesitation.
Many years of bliss and happiness pa.s.sed, and Elsa of Brabant had strictly kept the promise she had made on her bridal morning. Their happiness was still more enhanced by the birth of three hopeful boys.
They were their parents" joy, and promised to become in future shining ornaments of knighthood.
It happened however, when the eyes of the d.u.c.h.ess were resting with pride on her sons, that her mother"s heart thought with grief of the solemn oath she had sworn on her wedding-day.
With how much more pride would she have looked upon her sons if she could have known them to be the offspring of a high and n.o.ble race.
She did not doubt however that her beloved husband"s lineage was a most n.o.ble one. Yet the thought that his sons might never bear their father"s name, nor be able to add new glories to it, was lying heavily on her mind, and darkened the radiant image of her husband, that like a deity filled her whole soul.
The fatal question she had for so long withheld burst one day forcibly from her lips.
When she had p.r.o.nounced the awful words, the proud hero grew pale, and freeing himself softly from her tender embrace, he cried out in bitter grief: "Woe to thee, my beloved wife and woe also to me! Now that thou hast uttered the question thou didst sware solemnly never to ask, our happiness is gone for ever. I must part from thee, never to see thee again."
A cry of anguish rose from her lips, but she was unable to keep him back. Waving his hand to her in a mute farewell her n.o.ble husband left the castle. He went to the Rhine and blew his silver horn.
Its sound was echoed from the sh.o.r.e like a long sob. The white swan with the boat soon appeared gliding gently over the river.
Lohengrin stepped into the boat and soon vanished out of sight and was seen no more.
His unhappy wife was inconsolable. Her grief was so intense that a short time after her health gave way, and she sank into a premature grave.
Her sons became the ancestors of a n.o.ble and distinguished race in the Rhenish country. Their badge is a swan.
The traveller who visits Cleve will still find a tombstone in its church with a knight carved on it, and a swan sitting at his feet.
ZUYDERSEA
Stavoren
[Ill.u.s.tration: Stavoren--Nach einem Stich von Holbein]
A strange story is still told about the city of Stavoren on the Zuydersea. It was a wondrous town, but like Vineta on the Baltic Sea it vanished from the earth.
The merchants of Stavoren were the rulers of the Ocean, and the treasures of all known countries were lying in their port. The houses were lovely palaces, furnished in their interior like the marvellous abodes of the Sultan Haroun Al Rachid, in the "Arabian Nights."
Of all the wealthy people of the town, there was n.o.body so much blessed with riches as Richberta, a proud and beautiful lady. Smiling fortune had lavishly poured its gifts upon her, and threw fresh treasures daily at her feet. She seemed to own everything beautiful that this life can bestow, but one thing she did not possess, and that was the soft fire of woman"s kindness which lightens and warms the soul, and throws on all its surroundings a mild reflecting gleam.
Richberta was cold and indifferent to either the pleasures or sorrows of her fellow-men. When night casts her shades upon the earth, all the sweet bright birds and b.u.t.terflies hide and make room for a host of ghastly animals like owls and bats. So in Richberta"s soul all her soft qualities had gone to sleep for want of the tender gleam of love, and only dark and harsh feelings haunted her soul. Immense pride in her own wealth, a bitter envy towards those who possessed more than she did, were her ruling pa.s.sions.