g to the water's
edge he addresses to the snowy bird words which no one can quite
comprehend. "My beloved swan, how gladly would I have spared you
this last sorrowful voyage. In a year, your period of service having
expired, delivered by the power of the Grail, in a different shape
I had thought to see you.--Oh, Elsa," he returns to her side, "oh,
that I might have waited but one year and been witness of your joy
when, under protection of the Grail, your brother had returned
to you, whom you thought dead!... When in the ripeness of time he
comes home, and I am far away from him in life, you shall give
him this horn, this sword, this ring...." He places in her hands
the great double-edged sword, the golden horn from his side, the
ring from his finger. "This horn when he is in danger, shall procure
him help. This sword, in the fray, shall assure him victory. But when
he looks at the ringlet him think of me who upon a time delivered
you from danger and distress. Farewell, farewell! My sweet wife,
farewell! The Grail will chide if I delay longer.... Farewell!"
He has kissed over and over again the face of the poor woman who,
annihilated by grief, has not the power to make motion or sound.
He places her, with terrible effort of resolution, in the arms
at last of others, and hastens, amid general lamentation, to the
shore.

Ortrud, lost in the crowd, has watched all. She has in reality
gained nothing by the disaster to Elsa, but she exults in it. Further
revenge for what she has suffered from Elsa's mere existence, for
the bitterness of her husband's death at the hand of Elsa's husband,
she seeks recklessly in a revelation which cannot but hold danger for
herself. In the insanity of her mingled despair and gloating hate,
her hurry to hurt, she does not wait until the powerful antagonist
be well out of the way of retorting--Lohengrin has but one foot as
yet in the boat,--before she cries, "Go your way home, go your
way, O haughty hero, that gleefully I may impart to this fair fool
who it is drawing you in your boat. By the golden chain which I
wound about him, I recognised that swan. That swan was the heir
of Brabant!--I thank you," she mockingly addresses Elsa, "I thank
you for having driven away the Knight. The swan must now betake
himself home with him. If he had remained here longer, that hero,
he would have delivered your brother too!" The whole dark scheme of
Ortrud's ambition now lies bare: She had compassed the disap