ck 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 Duchess 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 vassals, 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 Duchess 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 assist 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,
nobody would dare to become his adversary.

The days passed in deepest sorrow for the unfortunate Duchess. The
moment was approaching when the rebel would make bold to proclaim
openly his claims before the whole assembled nobility on the open
space 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 assembly. The large plain was
crowded with a throng of people, and glittered with the brilliant
armour of the knights.

The unfaithful vassal, 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 Duchess. 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
multitude of knights. He perceived with triumphant joy, how